The Clandestine Affair
by JulesSC
Summary: Booth and Brennan work together again the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension. Realizing they have something good going on, They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.
1. Pilot

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

Well, without any delay, here's 'The Clandestine Affair':

* * *

_September, 2005_

Dr. Temperance Brennan was beyond fuming as she sat in the passenger's seat of Special Agent Seeley Booth's FBI standard issued SUV. Not only had he wasted an hour of her morning, he had also delayed her reunion with her children.

It was a Saturday morning, which meant that Rosalie and Wyatt had karate class, but Zan and Tri were at home, waiting for her to return. It was one of Christian's weekends with them but she had switched it due to her return to DC. Besides, Christian had kept Zan and Tri with him for most of the six weeks she'd been gone. He could afford to miss them this weekend.

But now, Booth had completely come and ruined her plans. Who the hell did he think he was, pulling a stunt like this? Did he think she had no life to get to? That he could just barge in and take control of everything and she'd be just fine with that?

"That's the best you can do?" she demanded, turning her head to look at him.

She almost snorted in disbelief when he gave her an innocent side glance. "What?" he asked in an innocuous tone she didn't buy.

"Getting Homeland Security to snatch me so you can stage a fake rescue," she clarified, still glaring angrily at him.

He shrugged and gave her a small, playful grin. That one tiny smile made her heart pound faster, irritatingly enough. "Well at least I picked you up at the airport, huh?" he tried to joke. When he noticed that wasn't buying it, he sighed. "Alright, c'mon. I mean, I went through the appropriate channels but your assistant there…He stonewalled me."

She was indignant that he had the gall to act like this was her fault somehow, like he was completely justified in his actions earlier. _Now I remember with perfect clarity why I couldn't stand him_, she snarked mentally. "Yeah, well, after the last case I told Zack never ever to put you through," she said angrily. "He's a good assistant."

An awkward pause filled between them as they remembered the first ever case they'd worked on - not just the details of the case (at least not for Booth) and how they'd both clashed horribly when it came to forensics versus police work, but the kiss they had shared outside the bar.

_Hot, demanding, passionate…OhGodIwantmore…_

A shiver went down Booth's spine and judging from how stiffly Brennan was sitting, he figured she was remembering, too.

He opened his mouth to say something - he wasn't sure what and he was pretty sure whatever came out of his mouth next wasn't going to be romantic or sexy or anything but plain awkward - but he had to say something nonetheless, when Brennan beat him to it.

"You can let me out anywhere along here," she nodded towards the scenery outside her window.

Suddenly he was thrust back into reality, back into the present, and the reason why he had been desperate enough to seek out the one woman who could drive him crazy with a simple look - and not just in a _wantyousobadly_ way, either - even after the disaster of their last case together came back at him full force.

"Alright listen," he tried to say in a calm tone. "A decomposed corpse was found this morning at Arlington National Cemetery."

Brennan cut him off before he could say anything else. "Arlington National Cemetery is full of decomposed corpses. It's…A cemetery," she deadpanned.

He nodded. "Yeah, but this one is your type of corpse," he interjected. "It wasn't in a casket."

Brennan almost reached over and take control of the wheel herself. "If you drive one more block, I'm screaming 'kidnap' out the window," she threatened instead.

Booth threw her an irritated glare. "You know what? I'm trying to mend bridges here," he said, a last ditch attempt at getting her to just go along with him.

"Alright, pull over," she demanded, not interested in anything but getting the hell away from Booth and getting home to her boys.

Annoyed but having no choice but to do as she asked, Booth pulled over to the curb, the tires of his SUV squealing in protest at the sudden move. Brennan was out of the vehicle, bags in hand, before he'd even unfastened his seatbelt. He hurried to do the same, following behind her and forcing himself not to notice the way her hips swayed even as she stalked quickly away from him.

"I'm going home," Brennan threw over her shoulder.

"Great," Booth muttered to himself. "Could we…?" he started to say to the incensed anthropologist - who apparently held grudges for a very long time - but she'd already walked off.

Booth hurried after her once again. "Look, could we just skip this part?" he asked, a little desperate to move this along. After all, if he couldn't get the one person who could help him solve this case…Well, his ass was on the line. He sure as hell wasn't looking forward to the conversation with his superior to tell him that he was unable to solve a case because he'd been a jackass to an infuriatingly beautiful woman.

"I find you condescending," Brennan told him.

_Then again, if Cullen would just meet her, he'd understand_, he thought wryly. "Me? I'm condescending?" he repeated incredulously. "I'm not the one who's gotta mention that she's got a doctorate every five-"

Brennan interjected once more. "I _am_ the one with the doctorate," she reminded him none too gently.

Booth was reaching the end of his tether - and fast. "Yeah, well, you know what?" he demanded impatiently. "I'm the one with the badge and the gun. Huh? You know you're not the only forensic anthropologist in town."

Even as the words left his mouth, Booth knew how ridiculous they sounded. Before their first case, before he'd met her, he had absolutely no idea that 'forensic anthropologists' even existed, let alone what they did.

Evidently, Brennan realized the same thing because she laughed. "Yes, I am. The next university is in Montreal. Parlez-vous Français?" she teased.

He stopped walking, defeated, when he realized that the ball was in her court instead of how he'd planned for it to go ever since he'd called in on that favor with Homeland Security this morning. "What's it going to take?" he asked, wary of her answer.

Brennan stopped her fast-paced walk and turned to face him. "Full participation in the case," she demanded, looking him straight in the eye.

"Done," he agreed immediately. He'd work out the finer details later, get out of the tight hold she was sure to have on 'full participation'. Right now, all he needed was her to agree to look at the freakin' cadaver in the first place.

She slowly made her way towards him, not recoiling from his large frame or flinching as she looked him square in the eyes. _Fearless_, he was reminded. "Not just lab work…Everything," she reiterated, confirming what he'd already suspected.

He gave her a look. "What do you want me to do? Spit in my hand? We're Scully and Mulder," he jibed.

She stared at him blankly. "I don't know what that means," she told him.

He rolled his eyes heavenward. "It's an olive branch," he elaborated, wondering what it was about her that really got underneath his skin. "Just…Get back in the car," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the direction of his SUV.

Brennan sighed as she hoisted her bags over her shoulder, glaring at Booth when he tried to help her as though she was a damsel in distress needing him to 'save her' or some other ridiculous notion. She made a note to call Christian when Booth was occupied and nowhere near her to catch her conversation with him. There was no reason for him to miss out on his weekend with his sons when she had to work anyway. _And a call for the kids_, she reminded herself. _Just to say hello and 'I'm sorry'_.

BBBBBBB

A HBP-inducing phone call to Christian and a tearful phone call to Zan and Tri filled with 'I'm sorry's and 'We'll play tomorrow's and 'We'll get ice-cream and go to the park and buy that new video game you wanted and eat lots of hotdog's later, Brennan was able to get to work.

Unlike Rosalie and Wyatt, Zan and Demetri were nowhere near old enough to be left alone. Their nanny, Sylvia, lived a few blocks away and was always available to watch them but Brennan didn't like that her kids depended on a nanny instead of their parents.

Rose and Wyatt had been much more understanding of Brennan's dilemma, being the older kids who were both interested in her general field of work. Rose mentioned something about catching up on homework and Wyatt said something about taking out a girl from class named 'Abby'.

Her work had taken over her, just like it tended to do sometimes, and Brennan had fallen asleep at her desk while working on the skull of the victim. She wasn't extra cautious about leaving work on time considering Zan and Tri were with their father for the weekend and wouldn't be back until Sunday night.

Now it was morning and, tired and sore from working all night, Brennan was headed home to get some much-deserved sleep for a few hours.

"Mom!" Rosalie was the first to greet her as she entered the three bedroom apartment they'd lived in since the twins were eight. "You're home," Rosalie came forward and, with a smile that showed just how painfully beautiful she was, gave Brennan a tight hug before Brennan had even closed the door.

Brennan laughed at her daughter's enthusiasm, hugging her back just as tightly, kicking the door closed behind her. "Where's your brother?" she questioned, not bothering with her bags by the door as she led Rosalie further into the apartment, arm around Rose's neck.

Rosalie rolled her eyes, the very image of an ice queen, "He's in his room, talking to Abby on the phone. I swear, he's such a girl."

Brennan chuckled warmly. "What're you up to today?" she asked curiously. She generally forbade Rosalie and Wyatt to have any extracurricular activities on Sunday, citing that they needed one day to catch up on rest since they both seemed so insistent on doing as much as possible the other six days of the week. She was proud of them for being very productive children but everyone needed their rest. She didn't want them to be overstressed, especially at such a young age.

Rose shrugged. "I've finished most of my homework," she assured her mother. "Just a Shakespearean project for English class that I'm working on with my assigned partner." Brennan winced at the word, wondering when it had become a thorn in her side. "But that's not due for another two weeks and Shawn and I have it mostly done."

Brennan gave Rosalie a wolfish smile, raising her eyebrow in question. "Shawn, huh?" she teased, taking note of the slight blush coloring her daughter's cheeks. "The same Shawn you wouldn't stop gushing about for weeks a few months ago?"

Rosalie scowled slightly. "Whatever, mom," she muttered, not truly resentful. If anything, she was glad that there was so little age difference between her and her mother. It made for easier communication.

Brennan laughed. "Okay, listen, I'm going to catch up on a few hours of sleep," she told Rose. "Try and be quiet, okay?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes once more. "I'm not a little kid anymore, mom," she said, shooting Brennan a look. "You don't have to remind me to not break things and use my inside voice."

Brennan stopped at the living room, noting that the small TV Pete had left behind was untouched. Her big kids weren't fans of TV, just Wyatt on occasion when he wanted to watch contestants on that singing show make fools of themselves. It was mostly Zan and Tri who watched cartoons on that idiot box.

Brennan grabbed Rosalie by the head, one hand on each side of Rose's head, and pressed a loving kiss to her forehead. She smiled at the girly scent of vanilla, roses and jasmine - Rose was addicted to nice-smelling hygiene products, like soaps and lotions. She normally took some allowance money to spend it at places like Crabtree & Evelyn, and Bath & Body Works.

"Alright. See you later, baby. Love you," she murmured against Rose's silky hair.

"Love you, too, mom."

Brennan made a quick stop at Wyatt's room to give him a hello hug and kiss - he was distracted enough by this Abby girl that he didn't protest about how he was thirteen now and too old to be cuddling his mommy - before making her way to her room. She wasn't too tired to change into something more comfortable, which was good since she'd spent almost two days in the same outfit.

She was startled awake a little while later by a noise outside her room. It had sounded like a dull thud, which was strange. She climbed out of bed, sparing a glance at her alarm clock. She was annoyed to learn that she'd only had two hours of sleep. _If it's one of the twins…I thought I told them to be quiet_, she groused silently.

Her senses were on alert when she realized that the house was strangely silent and dark, despite the noise she'd heard earlier. She grabbed a baseball bat Wyatt had left leaning against the hallway wall, silently tip-toeing through the apartment to catch whomever it was. She was startled to see the distinct outline of a full grown male in her home. The curtains had been drawn, something Rose must've done, so the apartment was dark despite the time and she couldn't make out the face of her intruder.

She could, however, see that the intruder was carrying her TV.

_A robber?_ She shook her head, mystified. _Of all the days to get robbed…_

Brennan waited until the intruder was right in front of her, bat poised over her shoulder, before swinging it hard, shattering the glass of the TV.

The intruder dropped the TV, groaning in pain and falling backwards through the beaded curtains Angela had added to the apartment to give it a more 'Bohemian chic look', whatever that meant. Brennan stepped over the intruder to look at his face, the bat poised for another swing, when she stopped short.

"Peter?" she asked, aghast.

Her ex boyfriend looked up at her, smiling through his pain, and gave a short laugh. "Hey, Tempe," he greeted lamely.

She rolled her eyes, helping him to his feet. "It's not rational for you to choose the first day I'm back to reclaim your television," she told him as soon as they were seated on her couch.

Peter simply gave her a contemplative look, "While you were away, I thought a lot about why we broke up."

"We fought all the time and don't like each other anymore," was the real reason.

What Peter came up with - _ugh, psychologists _- was, "We fought because you were emotionally distant and cold…But sexually speaking…I think you will agree."

Brennan stared at him in disbelief, a small snort of laughter escaping her lips. "You didn't come for your TV. You timed this for a booty call!" She shook her head in disgust, "What if one of my kids were home?"

Peter shrugged. "Don't your little ones spend weekends with their dad? And the big ones are old enough to understand sex," was his reply.

Brennan didn't reply. It irked her a little that Peter knew of her children's schedule, even a little. That'll teach me to have a boyfriend move in, she thought ruefully. She stood up and grabbed Peter by his arm, hauling him off the couch. "Okay, you're leaving," she stated firmly.

Peter, unrelenting, continued jabbering even as she dragged him towards the front door. "Your intimacy issues are probably due to being orphaned so young, but it's okay, Temperance," he soothed as though she was the one who needed help. "We'll work this out. You've already successfully, albeit unorthodoxly, raised four kids…Clearly, love isn't completely out of the picture for you."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Ugh. I hate psychology when you're just horny," she said, annoyed.

Peter gave her a serious look. "Brennan, do you want to spend the rest of your line alone?"

Brennan glared at him angrily. "Okay, I don't know about the rest of my life but I sure as hell wish I was alone right now!" she said through gritted teeth, throwing open the front door. "And, for the record, I won't be alone. I have my-"

She was surprised to see Booth a few feet away from her door, approaching with a look of surprise on his face. She stopped speaking immediately - there was no reason for Booth to know about her personal life.

Peter already out in the hallway, turned around to face her. "So, what? We split the cost of the TV?" he questioned stupidly.

Brennan rolled her eyes again - that's what you get for having a thirteen year old daughter whose main response to most things is a roll of the eye - "Ugh! Goodbye!"

Peter didn't seem like he was letting go of his inane idea of a booty call anytime soon but Booth had reached the door and even in her highly irritated state, Brennan could admit that there was absolutely no competition between Booth and Peter - the former won hands down.

"What's going on here?" Booth asked, looking between Brennan and Peter.

Irrationally enough, Brennan felt the need to clarify, "Peter broke into my house."

Booth's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, clearly not expecting this answer at all. He'd expected 'one night stand' or 'boyfriend', both of which made his stomach churn strangely enough, but a burglar wasn't on the list. "What!" he thundered, turning dark, stormy eyes to the nervous man cowering under the glare of the alpha male.

Brennan found this oddly humorous. Deciding that she wasn't in the mood to watch Booth being a Neanderthal, she added, "For a booty call." At the FBI agent's confused expression, she explained, "Peter's my ex."

She turned to glare at the man in question. "Would you get lost already? And give me back my key, Peter. It's creepy that you're using it to get into my apartment," she commanded.

When he held it out, she snatched it out of his fingers. "Well, I'll just leave, Tempe…Shame we couldn't just get together one last time. I think the fire of our relationship-"

"You do remember that I have three black belts, right?" Brennan interrupted, cocking an eyebrow in his direction.

Peter squeaked out a 'bye' before darting away.

Booth gave her an amused look. "Nice catch, Bones," he couldn't help but tease.

And even though she did, she said, "I don't know what that means," just to annoy him. Booth scowled at her, which she ignored. "What are you even doing here?" She raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me _you're_ here for a booty call, too?"

She had the satisfaction of watching him sputter awkwardly, choking on air. "What! What! No…Geez, Bones…No, okay?" Booth took a few deep, calming breaths before starting again in an attempt not to sound like the fool this woman could make him out to be sometimes. "We're needed at the lab," he replied. "Could you get dressed?"

She sighed, not really liking that she couldn't catch a few more hours of shut-eye, but knowing that work came first. She nodded. "Sure. Wait for me downstairs," she instructed.

Booth raised an eyebrow. "Not gonna invite me in, Bones?" he asked, trying to sneak a peek over her shoulder.

Brennan pulled the door until barely a sliver of gap was left between the door and the frame. "No."

He raised an eyebrow at her curt tone. "Why not?"

She sighed at his persistence. "I need a reason to not invite someone I don't like into my own apartment?" she snarked.

"Ouch," he winced.

She shrugged, but noticing the slightly hurt look in his eyes, sighed and relented. "Look, I'm sorry. I just didn't get a lot of sleep…I won't be long. I'll be down in a few minutes, I promise," she urged.

He nodded, not pushing the matter. "Fine. I'll be out front."

Brennan waited until Booth was in the elevator before she pushed her door open and slipped inside, locking it behind her. She sighed and took a look around the place. It wasn't that she had some sort of complicated reason for not wanting Booth to come inside her apartment to wait for her. It was just that…She didn't think she wanted him to know about her personal life.

No matter how recognized she'd gotten, she tried to keep Rose, Wyatt, Zan and Tri as low-key as possible. They deserved the safety and discretion. It wasn't that she didn't trust Booth, it was that she didn't trust Booth enough to let him in that deep.

If he had entered her home, he would've known immediately. Her apartment was littered with evidence of her kids. Her walls were decorated with framed pictures, as were her bookshelves. Zan and Tri had left quite a few of their toys out in the open in the living room, and the toys that had been kept away or hadn't been taken out in the first place were placed in three wicker boxes with no lids, right next to the TV-less entertainment unit. There was an entire locked case filled with trophies and awards the kids had gotten over the years, with room to spare for future ones. She'd framed Christopher's old little league jersey and placed it on the wall for sentimental reasons. Pictures that Zan and Tri had drawn were stuck on her fridge door and on the cork board she'd placed in the hallway wall leading to the living room.

These and a million other things would've alerted Seeley Booth to the fact that Brennan had kids and she wasn't sure if she wanted that or if she was ready for it.

She quickly cleaned up the glass from the broken TV and moved it out of the way to prevent anyone from accidentally hurting themselves before hurrying to take a very short fifteen-seconds shower and change into work-appropriate clothes.

Booth was, as he'd said, waiting for her out front in his SUV. He drove them to the Jeffersonian in silence and she was surprised to find that it wasn't an awkward sort of silence at all.

Angela gave them a lopsided, leery grin when they entered together but Brennan didn't give her a chance to tease, getting straight to work.

"Brennan reassembled the skull and applied tissue markers," Angela was saying, typing into the computer connected to the Angelator as she spoke.

Brennan filled in what Angela didn't, "Her skull was badly damaged but racial indicators, cheekbone dimensions, nasal arch and occipital measurements suggests African-American."

_Now _that's_ something I can use_, Booth thought excitedly. _We're getting somewhere_.

Angela pressed 'enter' on her computer, finalizing the details she'd added in, "And we have our victim."

A hologram of a woman's upper body appeared on the raised platform of the Angelator. The skin was translucent, showing the skeleton underneath.

Booth blinked. "Whoa," he muttered, stepping closer to the hologram. _We don't have stuff like this in our tech lab_, he mused to himself. He raised his right hand and placed it directly in front of the holographic figure, moving his fingers through the specter. "I have to admit that's pretty cool."

Brennan grabbed his hand and pushed it away from the hologram. "Ange, rerun the program substituting Caucasian values," she instructed, and all Booth could think was 'did she realize she was still holding my hand behind this table thing?'

Angela nodded, entering the new data into the system, and the image begun to chance into a Caucasian girl.

Brennan, who was obviously faster than the others, asked, "Does she look familiar to anyone?"

"No," Booth replied, eyebrows drawn together as he stared at the face.

Brennan turned to Angela. "Split the difference - mixed race."

"Lenny Kravitz or Vanessa Williams?" Angela asked, not really expecting an answer out of Brennan.

Brennan stared at her in confusion - neither of those names seemed even remotely familiar to her. "I don't know what that means," she admitted.

Angela didn't acknowledge her much-used phrase. She typed in new data once more, and the others watched as the holographic face subtly changed into one of a mixed race girl.

"Angela, reduce tissue depth over the cheekbones to the jaw line," she instructed, her eyes squinting at the image floating a few feet away from her. Angela did as she was asked. "Does anyone recognize her?" Brennan asked once more, satisfied that the image was now as close to the truth as possible.

"Not me," Zack replied immediately.

Angela, however, took a second look. "Wait…Is that who I think it is?"

Zack, who had been staring at the face of the deceased for some time, suddenly remembered. "The girl who had the affair with the Senator," he filled in, looking towards his mentor for approval.

Brennan, however, wasn't paying any attention to Zack. Her gaze was riveted on Booth, who was staring at the hologram with an intense, sorrow look in his eyes, his face drawn.

"Her name is Cleo Louise Eller," Booth said quietly. "The only daughter to Ted and Sharon Eller. Last seen approximately nine p.m., April 6th, 2003, leaving the cardio-deluxe gym on Kay Street."

If Brennan was shocked at how well his memory was, she didn't mention it. She knew what it was like to pore over facts for so long that they were ingrained into your memory. Booth…If anything, she could concede that he shared her same burning desire for the truth, for justice. She knew that if he had worked Cleo Eller's case, as it seemed like he did, he would've been working himself to metaphorical death searching for clues of her.

"She didn't even make it to her car," Booth was saying.

Brennan couldn't resist saying softly, "Pretty good memory."

He dropped his head slightly, and his head tilted to the side like he wanted to look at her but decided against it last minute. "Yeah, well, it's my job to find her," he replied tiredly, confirming her earlier suspicions on the reason he remembered so well.

"Well, in that case, congratulations on your success," Hodgins said tactlessly.

Booth glared in his direction. "This isn't exactly the way I wanted it to end," he admitted.

It was lunch time before the file Booth requested on the Cleo Eller case was brought to him. He and Brennan made their way towards the rest of the squints sitting on the steps leading up to the Jeffersonian, eating their lunches.

"Cleo Eller is not just some missing girl," Booth said, trying to subtly get his point across.

Hodgins seemed to get it first and said it aloud in his tactless manner. "Yeah, she's the senate intern who was boinking Senator Alan Bethlehem."

Booth chose to ignore Hodgins, as he should every squint except Angela who was probably the most normal human in the entire building and, on occasion, Brennan. "I was secondary in the investigation to the disappearance of that girl and we couldn't confirm that," he said quickly, trying to get Hodgins to quit that line of thought. Who knew how discreet squints could be?

Booth opened the folder in his hand and looked down sadly at the pictures of Cleo in it. "How did you recognize her before she even had her own face?" he asked her, curious. It had just seemed impossible.

Brennan shrugged, as though what she'd done was something everyone should've been able to do. "I recognized the underlying architecture of her features," she explained. "The rest is just window dressing."

Zack, who had been observing Booth's seemingly permanent frown, asked of no one in particular, "I'm not an expert but shouldn't he be happier?"

Booth answered for himself. "Oh, no, believe me. I'm happy."

"You seem happy to me," Angela teased.

Booth turned around to walk down the steps, Brennan following him closely. "I need this kept quiet," he threw over his shoulder at the other three.

"Ha!" Hodgins' paranoia crept in. "Cover up."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Paranoid conspiracy theory," he muttered.

Hodgins heard him and yelled after him, "Is it paranoia conspiracy that Monica Lewinski was KGB trained sex agent mole?"

Brennan mimicked Booth's quick steps across the yard. "So what do we do next?" she asked, eager for action she wouldn't get if she wasn't in the field with Booth. "Confront the Senator?"

Booth winced. "Listen, Bones…" he started.

"Don't call me Bones," she snapped immediately.

He ignored her. "I know we talked about you coming out in the field…"

He didn't need to even finish the sentence. Brennan had been around too many men with too many disappointing qualities about them to sniff out a let down a mile away. "Oh, you rat bastard," she cursed, glaring at him.

"A case this big…The director is going to create a special investigation unit and if I line all my ducks in a row, I can - maybe - I can head it up," he continued.

Persistent, Brennan pushed further. "I don't know what that means but I think maybe I can be a duck," she insisted, still rushing after him.

"You're not a duck, okay?" he told her, wondering why the hell these scientists types couldn't just get it. If they wanted action, they should be cops, not squints. "On this one, we stick to the book. Cops on the streets. Squints in the lab." _The way it should be_.

Of course, being Brennan, she didn't back down at all. "Well in that case, the Jeffersonian will be issuing a press release identifying the girl in the pond," she stated defiantly, knowing that this would be enough to make him think twice about tossing her aside on this case. She stopped walking, knowing he was rattled enough to do the same.

He proved her right a moment later when his steps halted and he turned around to face her, a displeased expression on his face. "You do that and I'm a dead duck," he stepped closer to her, probably trying to intimidate her, but she held her ground. He wasn't at all scary compared to everything else she'd seen in her life. "What are you trying to do?"

In her usual brutal honesty, she blinked at him innocently and said, "Blackmail you."

They stood toe to toe, just a few inches between them, in a staring contest. "Blackmail a federal agent?" he clarified.

Another innocent blink. "Yes."

"I don't like it."

"I'm fairly certain you're not supposed to."

Booth stared at Brennan, his eyebrows drawn together. Everything about her was so… Contradictory. She looked so…Beautifully innocent. And he knew she was naïve on a lot of things, knew it from personal experience. But then she turned around and, with those same expressive, childlike big blues, pull a stunt like this.

He considered his options - either convince his boss to let Brennan out on the field with him, which was sure to be a grueling meeting and anger his boss on so many levels, or deny Brennan and get himself fried before he even began.

Sighing, he admitted defeat. "Fine. You're in."

And Brennan just stood there in front of him, smiling slightly as though she'd known he'd give in all along.

BBBBBBB

Brennan sighed as she leaned over the edge of the railing, her eyes not really seeing anything as she thought about the conversation she'd shared with Booth after speaking to the Ellers. She was so caught up with her thoughts that she didn't realize it when Angela walked up behind her until her friend spoke.

"You wanna get a drink?" Brennan started at Angela's voice. "Non-topical application? Glug, glug, woohoo." Brennan didn't respond, and simply gave Angela an upset look. "C'mon sweetie," Angela coaxed.

Brennan and Angela strolled down the hallway slowly, making their way towards the lab. "What if Booth is right?" Brennan asked, after telling Angela of the incident at the Ellers and the conversation with Booth that had followed right after. "What if I'm only good with bones and lousy with people?"

"People like you," Angela insisted.

Brennan rolled her eyes. Oh, she knew 'people' liked her. Men, in particular, found her to be very good company, especially when they're horny. She could understand that. She was a beautiful woman. But that didn't mean that men - or anyone, really - liked her for anything other than her looks. "I don't care if men like me," she blurted out to Angela.

Angela raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Interesting leap from people to men but I'm sure it means nothing," she commented lightly.

Brennan fought the urge to groan. This was the second time in one day that someone had tried using psychology on her. "I hate psychology," she muttered. "My most meaningful relationships are with…Dead people." She had to laugh bitterly.

"Who said that?" Angela asked, a hint of anger making its way to her voice. Whoever said that clearly didn't know Brennan well enough to make a judgment like that.

Brennan didn't answer her question. "It's true," she went on. "I understand Cleo and her bones are all I have ever seen." They came across a bench and both made their way to sit on it, angling their body towards each other. "When she was seven she broke her wrist probably falling off a bike and two weeks later before the cast was even removed she got right back on that bike and broke it all over again. And when she was being murdered she fought back hard even though she was so depressed she could hardly get up in the morning. She didn't welcome death. Cleo wanted to live."

Brennan blinked back the tears that she didn't realize had started to prick at her eyes as she recounted Cleo's life to Angela. _Damn it, I hate crying_.

Angela gave Brennan a knowing look. "Honey, do you ever think that maybe you come off a little distant because you connect too much?" she suggested.

"I hate psychology," Brennan insisted yet again. "It's a soft science."

"I know," Angela reached over to take Brennan's hand. "But people are mostly soft."

Brennan gripped Angela's hand in her own, staring at their entwined fingers for a moment. "Except for their bones," she corrected.

Angela nodded. "Yeah," she agreed. "And, sweetie…You're forgetting the most meaningful relationship you've ever had." At Brennan's questioning look, she smiled and ploughed on ahead. "The one you have with your kids."

Brennan shook her head. "That doesn't count, Angela."

"Yeah, it does."

But Brennan wouldn't be Brennan if she wasn't stubborn. "They are my children, Ange. I carried them inside my womb, I gave birth to them…It's encoded into my DNA to protect them and love them. And since I am their caregiver, I suppose they feel the same way about me due to the dependency they have on me."

Angela sighed, rolling her eyes. "Not all parents love their kids, Bren," she reminded her gently. "I mean…God only knows why some parents could be so…Cruel, but not all parents love the way you love. The way you love them…It's intense. It's beautiful. You'd give your life for them. It's beautiful, Bren, and you shouldn't doubt that they feel the same way."

She ducked her head slightly to catch Brennan's eye, to make her point come across for sure. "It _counts_," she insisted. The two women stayed together in silence for a few moments longer before Angela spoke again. "You want some advice?"

Brennan quirked a little sad smile. "Glug, glug, woohoo," she repeated Angela's earlier words with a sigh.

"Offer up a little bit of yourself every once and awhile," Angela advised. "Just tell somebody something you're not completely certain you want them to know."

Brennan released Angela's hand and reeled backwards, straightening her posture. "Oh, God," she muttered. "That's the second time I have received that advice."

Angela grinned cheekily. "Well, you know I give great advice."

BBBBBBB

When the frustration at going nowhere with Cleo's case had waned, the irritation did, too, and guilt settled in instead. Angela's words and disapproving look sent his way after the way he'd spoken to Brennan were still ringing in his ears as he slammed the door to his SUV shut. The look that Brennan had given him, the hurt and disbelief swimming in her eyes, was still so vivid in his mind's eye.

Booth sighed, dropping his head back and closing his eyes as he rested against his seat's headrest. He breathed in and out calmly for a few seconds, waiting for the guilt to wane too. After all, if it hadn't been for Brennan, he would've still been working the Cleo Eller case, and he wouldn't be racing against time trying to solve it in one afternoon before another agent takes over, using nothing but useless 'fact's the squints had gotten from Angela's magic computer thingy.

When the guilt didn't disappear, or even lessen by a fraction, Booth's eyes snapped open. Cursing under his breath, he reached over and turned the key in the ignition, starting the car.

It took him almost an hour to track her down. And when he found her, he couldn't help but scoff a little. Of course she would be in a shooting range.

She was standing there, feet apart, and gun in her hands as she shot at a target, ear protectors and safety glasses on. He walked quietly behind her, not thinking that she'd heard him, but she surprised him yet again by turning around to face him once she was done with her round.

She removed her ear protectors and stared at him expectantly.

"Thought I would find you here," were the first words he said. "Y'know, you being a good shot and doing martial arts…It's all your way of dealing. I mean, who knows better than you how fragile life can be."

Brennan knew from his words that he knew of her background. Which was why she had no problem whatsoever saying, "Maybe an army Ranger sniper who became an FBI homicide investigator."

She turned around again, facing away from him.

Booth quirked a small smile. "Aw, you looked me up? Huh?" he asked, his tone slightly teasing. When she didn't reply, he stepped forward right next to her. "Do you mind?" he gestured at the gun.

"Be my guest," Brennan slid the gun over to him.

"Thank you."

Booth picked up the gun in his hand and stared at it for a moment. He lifted the gun and pulled on the trigger, deliberately missing the target.

Brennan laughed as she watched. "Were you any good at being a sniper?" she couldn't resist a jab.

"A sniper gets to know a little something about killers," he countered. "Senator Bethlehem…He's no killer."

Brennan turned to face him, challenging him. "Oh, and Oliver Lauriea is?" her tone was almost mocking.

Booth stepped closer to her, backing her up against the wall behind her, and didn't stop until their faces were just inches apart. They both had small, flirty little smiles on their faces - surprising proof that even after a year, there was still chemistry between the two of them; chemistry that was undeniable in his warm brown eyes and her sparkling blue ones.

"The way I read Lauriea," Booth started, speaking in a low whisper as he maintained eye contact with her. "He's unhinged. That makes him dangerous."

A flirty smile on her face transformed into a little smirk. "That would be your gut telling you that, correct?"

"You know, homicides…They are not solved by scientists. They're solved by guys like me asking a thousand questions a thousand times. Catching people telling lies every time," he raised his hand, placing it on the wall next to her head and caging her in between his body and the wall. "You're great at what you do, Bones, but you don't solve murders. Cops do."

She surprised him, like she always managed to do, by stepping even closer to him, pushing away from the wall. They were now barely an inch away from each other and when she spoke, her cinnamon scented breath fanned over his face. "Cleo Eller was killed on a cement floor sprinkled with diatomaceous earth. Traces of her blood will still be in that cement. One of us is wrong - maybe both of us. But if Bethlehem wasn't a Senator, you would be right there in his basement looking for that killing floor," she said in a low voice.

"You're afraid of him," she couldn't help but taunt. "Your hypothesis is that squints don't solve murders and cops do. Prove it."

Brennan smiled at him cockily. "Be a cop," she challenged.

And although her words had been an insult to him, and although she'd basically called him a coward, there was something in those eyes, in that smile, in her cocky dare even, that was undeniably…Attractive to him.

Before he knew what he was doing, Booth had placed the gun on the table so that he could use his hand to grip her by the waist. He pushed her back against the wall, his lips descending on hers. For one moment, one very painful moment, a part of his mind was still lingering somewhere in the vestiges of reality and he cringed at the thought of her shoving him away and drop kicking him like no other.

Brennan's body had frozen up the moment Booth's lips had pressed against hers. She fully considered pushing him away and maybe giving him a good punch to the face. But then the memory of their very first kiss a year ago came rushing towards her, the familiarity of his lips shocking her enough to part her lips slightly.

And then they were moving.

His arm unraveled from around her waist so that his large hand could travel up her arm and tangle in her silky locks. Her hands, pressed against his chest lightly for a moment, intended to push him away, but trailing up to lock around his neck instead. The feel of his lips - _too damn soft for all this to be real_ - against hers - _and damn it, she tasted like apples and honey and vanilla _- made her moan into their kiss. Booth reacted immediately to the sound, his large body backing her up so that she was pressed between himself and the wall, their bodies lined together. His lips moved harder against hers, setting an almost bruising, frantic pace.

A year, Booth chuckled mirthlessly in his head even as he gasped out loud when her arms unwound from around his neck to hook underneath his arms, her hands exploring the wide expanse of his back as she kissed him back with equal, eager fervor. A whole year and yet…He was still burning for her.

He wasn't sure exactly how long they kissed, because he knew the moment their lips had touched and they had wrapped themselves in each other's embrace, his mind was lost and his heart had started pounding so loudly it was all he could hear. But then her lips were slowing down and she was pulling away gently. Booth wasn't ashamed to admit that his lips followed hers, catching only empty air.

His eyes fluttered open to find her beautiful blues staring right back at him, a questioning, slightly panicked look in them. They were quiet for the longest time, still wrapped in each other's arms, his body still pinning hers to the wall, her right leg still hooked around his waist (when the hell had _that_ happened!), his hand still tangled in her hair…They didn't say a single word, just stared at each other, a sort of stunned disbelief in their eyes.

Finally, Brennan's tongue darted out quickly to take in the lingering taste of Booth on her lips, and one of her hands went up to her mouth to touch her still tingling lips.

"What…Booth…We kissed," she stammered, her lips swollen a delectable red from their unexpected make-out session.

Booth grinned at her, not at all regretful of what had transpired just moments ago. She glared at him, realizing that he wasn't as remorseful as she was. "Well, we shouldn't have," she insisted, clearing her throat and hoping that her voice didn't sound so shaky the next time she spoke. "It was completely unprofessional of us. We should forget the kiss a year ago, and we should forget the kiss just now-"

But Booth's gaze had dropped to her mouth, watching her lips move as she spoke, and not a single word she'd said had really registered in his brain. So, right at that moment, when the desire to taste her again had been too much for him to take, Booth bent his head and latched his lips to hers once more.

"Mmmpfh! Booth!" Brennan protested against his mouth, even as her lips responded to his without her conscious will to do so. The hand she'd intended to slap his chest with had, instead, been placed there gently, her fingers caressing him through his suit. Her other hand was resting at the back of his neck, her nails scraping gently through the short hairs at the base of his neck.

A shiver ran down Booth's spine, a growl escaping his lips and causing the leg hooked around his waist to tighten considerably. Both his hands gripped at her tiny waist, hoisting her up until both her legs were wrapped securely around his waist. One large, warm hand slid through her silky soft curls, fingers wrapped just a tad none-too-gently around locks of her hair and tilting her head back so that his lips, peppering kisses down her jaw, could make their way down her neck.

Brennan let out a low moan, a sound so needful that she didn't think she'd ever made it before even in the throes of passion, her hips undulating against his without her even realizing it. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head when Booth's talented mouth sucked at the pulse point at the base of her throat. Her hand at the back of his neck slipped upwards to grip at his short hair, tugging almost painfully before holding him there, urging him.

"Umm…No, wait, this is…Oh, f…" Brennan trailed off, feeling Booth's large hands slowly sliding down her back and making their way to her ass, squeezing the malleable flesh gently.

She allowed herself a few more moments in his arms before she forced herself to place her hands on his chest and push against him. "We have to stop," she whispered, swallowing back a moan.

Instead of complying with her, Booth's lips trailed back up her neck. He pressed a kiss to her chin before making a slow path down her jaw to her ear. "Don't wanna stop," he complained softly, his lips pressed to the hollow behind her ear. "You taste…So good," he groaned, his lips capturing hers once more.

"Mmm…" Brennan smiled into their kiss, her eyes sliding shut as he worked his talented mouth over hers. _You taste good, too_, she wanted to say. Instead, she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, moaning slightly, and gave it a gentle nibble as she slowly pulled away. "We need to stop," she said, giving him a regretful smile as she unhooked her legs from around his waist.

Booth didn't let go of his hold on her, even as her feet dropped to the ground, but he did press his forehead against her shoulder. They were both breathing heavily and he took the moment to close his eyes and breathe in deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. Of course, the fact that she was still pressed into his body, and that her sweet-and-spicy, strangely arousing scent was enveloping him did nothing to help.

Finally, when he was calm enough to unwrap his arms from around her, he did just that, returning the apologetic smile on her lips. One of his hands went back to the wall behind her. He lifted his free hand, cupping her ivory cheek and rubbing his thumb gently against her swollen bottom lip.

There were no words between them as they locked eyes, the flirty smiles they'd worn earlier flitting back across their handsome features. Finally, Brennan was the one who stepped away, knowing that if she allowed herself to get caught up again in his beautiful brown eyes, she wouldn't be able to restrain herself. The first time had been enough of a challenge.

She ducked out of his arms, walking backwards towards the door. "Call me when you're up for being a real cop," she threw at him, jumping right back to where their 'argument' had left off as though they hadn't just humped each other against the wall in a shooting range.

He watched her leave, a sexy little coy smirk playing on her lips that he was sure he mirrored just from the feel of it alone.

Once she was gone, Booth could feel just how tensed he had become, his shoulders almost painfully tight. He sighed, rolling his head back a few times to relax. When that didn't work, he decided to just walk away. Maybe some time at the FBI gym might be of some help.

At the last minute, he changed course - he grabbed the gun he'd left on the table right before kissing Brennan, swiveled towards the target and pulled the trigger, shooting at the target three times. He dropped his hand a little to see the result, noting with satisfaction that he'd managed to shoot the target three times in the head.

_I've still got it_, he thought, holstering the gun.

BBBBBBB

It was later, after a rigorous work out at the gym where Brennan's words had played on repeat in his mind no matter how much he tried to cast them aside, that he'd requested for a warrant for Bethlehem's house.

He called the Jeffersonian, asking to speak to Dr. Brennan, but she 'wasn't available at the moment'. He left a message with her dorky assistant, telling him that he needed to speak with her immediately.

He sat in his office, waiting for her. Cleo's case file was spread out all over his desk, clippings and photos and statements scattered all over. A video of Cleo's graduation that Mrs. Eller had given him - anything to help catch the monster who'd taken her baby girl away from her too soon - was playing, and Booth watched, saddened, as the young, lively, alive version of Cleo laughed on camera, happily hugging her family as the video was being taken.

Brennan, who had been giving Booth's message by Zack the moment she'd stepped out of the meeting set up to confirm the authentication of an Incan mummy she'd worked on, had made the short journey from the Jeffersonian to the Hoover building.

Now she stood in the doorway of Booth's office, silently watching him as he gazed at Cleo's face in the video. There was a sadness in the way he looked, a certain haunting look, that she knew wouldn't be present in just anyone's faces. Sure, they would be sad for Cleo, for the Ellers, but they wouldn't be driven to find her murderer the way Booth was driven. Not when they, like Booth, had never met Cleo when she was alive. That's why he's different, she realized.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on his open door. "Booth?"

"They look pretty happy, don't they?" he asked quietly. "Otherwise they wouldn't have turned on the camera I guess."

She deliberately didn't answer his question, changing the subject. "Zack said you wanted to see me?"

Booth looked at her. "Is that something that you don't like to talk about? Families?" he asked, curious.

Brennan turned to leave. She hadn't come all the way to his office to be interrogated about her personal life and if she had issues regarding families. Booth had read her file, she was sure of it, so he must know about her parents and brother abandoning her. That was something she would've never told anyone without really caring for them - not even Peter, whom she'd cohabitated with, knew much past 'parents left, became foster child'. She tended to keep these things locked up tight.

And what he didn't know - mainly Rosalie, Wyatt, Zan and Demetri - she didn't want to share. He was an infuriating, cocky FBI agent she couldn't seem to get her hands off. Things like her children was too personal to share, and she wasn't sure she was ready or that she even wanted to.

"Temperance," Booth called out softly. She halted at the sound of her first name. She could literally count on her fingers the number of times he'd called her that before. It was strange, hearing it from his lips. "Partners share things. Builds trust."

She raised an eyebrow. "Since when are we partners?" she didn't mean it to be cruel. It was just that she knew how much he didn't want her out on the field with him. She'd had to blackmail him, for God's sakes. Now, suddenly, he was openly admitting that they were partners?

"I apologize for the assumption," Booth snarked. He grabbed a piece of paper and handing it to her.

Brennan read the contents, shocked. "You got a warrant to search Bethlehem's place?"

Booth nodded, standing up and walking around his desk to approach her. "You're right," he admitted. "If Bethlehem wasn't a Senator, I would be in that basement looking for that killing floor."

He stopped right next to her, both of them resting against the edge of his desk. "But you're wrong," he continued softly. "I was never afraid of that guy and I'm not doing this because you are a genius. I'm doing this for Cleo."

And as she stared into his soulful eyes, just an inch or two away from hers, she believed him.

BBBBBBB

Ken Thompson had been apprehended - attended to medically and apprehended - and Cleo was finally being put to rest. Booth, Brennan and the rest of the squints were in attendance, paying their respects to Cleo and the Ellers, standing behind the other guests as they watched the ceremony.

"Lord make me an instrument of your peace…" the priest was saying.

Brennan, wearing a mournful expression as she thought about how tragically Cleo's life had ended, stepped forward, walking away from her friends. She made her way towards the casket, stopping halfway to grab a rose from a vase, and stepped up to Cleo's coffin. She placed the rose on top of the closed casket, gazing at Cleo's smiling face in the picture.

Booth, still standing with the squints, watched her, a pang to his heart he didn't quite understand or didn't want to understand. It was difficult to tell these days, especially when Brennan was concerned.

He took in her beautiful face, drawn in sadness as she mourned Cleo, and felt another stab of guilt at the way he'd rashly misjudged her in the beginning as someone who was too lost in science and had no real clue regarding humans and emotions.

"Is the FBI gonna lay charges against Brennan?" Angela asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. Which was probably a good thing because his mind had now taken to cataloging how ethereal Brennan looked with the sun's rays shining down softly on her.

Hodgins jumped in next, as eager as Angela to defend his boss. "She only shot him in the leg…Once," he reminded Booth.

"She didn't give him a warning," Booth countered. "She just shot him - with alcohol on her breath."

Dr. Goodman shook his head, obviously dissatisfied with Booth's answer. "It was her first shooting. You can't expect her to be perfect right out of the gate," he defended.

Booth almost rolled his eyes. What was it about Temperance Brennan that made everyone around her want to protect her? Even he himself…_No, do not go there_, he warned himself.

"How much warning did you give people before you sniped them?" Zack asked.

Booth and Dr. Goodman both looked over at him. Seeing his blank expression and obvious clueless behavior, Booth exhaled. _Note to self - just because I misjudged Bones doesn't mean I was wrong about the others. Kid is still a robotic weirdo_.

Without replying to Zack's creepy question, Booth stepped away from the group, striding over to Brennan who was walking away from the funeral. She didn't seem at all surprised to find him walking next to her.

At the sound of his sigh, Brennan turned to look at him, "What?"

"Told you it wasn't the Senator."

She quirked a small smile in his favor. "And I told you who it was, so we're even," she bantered playfully.

He nodded his head once, even as he disagreed, "'cept we work on the same cases and you end up on the New York Times bestsellers' list."

Brennan reeled her head back slightly in surprise. "I didn't know that," she admitted. She tended to stray away from anything regarding her book - including reviews. These things were handled by her book agent and her publisher. They were the ones who told her the response was a good one, and that was all she really needed to know.

Booth nodded again. "Mmm-hmm…Number three with a bullet."

"That's good, right?" she wondered. "The New York Times with a bullet."

"It means you're rich - call your accountant," he joked.

Brennan laughed at his words. "I don't have an accountant," she told him.

"Well get one."

She shrugged. "Okay. How does that work?"

Booth rolled his eyes, giving her a bemused look. "Ugh, you need to get out of the lab," he stated. "Y'know, watch TV. Turn on the radio. Anything. Pick up the phone and…" he trailed off, knowing it wasn't necessary to complete his sentence.

They both turned, almost simultaneously like they could read each other's minds, to watch the funeral one last time. Cleo's parents were at her casket, both placing roses on top of the wood.

"You know, if it weren't for you…Those people would never have known what happened to their daughter," he told Brennan. "It's gotta be worse than the truth."

Remembering Angela's advice about letting someone know something personal every once in awhile, and remembering what Booth had said about how partners shared things, Brennan took in a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I knew exactly how the Ellers felt about Cleo," she admitted softly. "My parents disappeared when I was fifteen and nobody knows what happened to them."

And just like that, like she had said some sort of magic word, Booth opened up to her, too. "Me being a sniper…I…I took a lot of lives. What I would like to do before I'm done is try to catch at least that many murderers," he told her, his voice low, filled with remorse on a past he cannot change.

Brennan, unthinkingly, laughed. "Please. You don't think there is some kind of…Cosmic balance sheet?" When Booth didn't laugh with her, and simply looked to the ground, she stopped smiling.

As an anthropologist, she observed many cultures filled with many different beliefs. Even if she didn't share the same beliefs, she could respect those who do, no matter how ridiculous said beliefs might seem to her.

So, she gave him a shy look and said, "I'd like to help you with that."

Booth smiled, knowing that his gratitude would be evident in his eyes. To lighten the mood, which had gotten too dark for his taste, he teased, "Ehh?" Brennan laughed with him. "Alright, how about we go for a drink?"

"It's eleven-thirty in the morning, Booth," Brennan reminded him.

He shrugged. "I didn't say it had to be alcoholic," he said, taking a risky leap and linking his arm through hers. Brennan's head snapped around in his direction, but he continued looking ahead, jabbering away about what they should do next, giving no inclination that he was aware of her gaze on him. "How about we go to Sid's? I'm dying for a good meal. We'll go for an early lunch."

She hesitated, both on his lunch invitation and on the decision to retract her arm from his. "I don't know…" she trailed off.

He turned his head, then, to give her his charm smile. If anything, he knew that worked on her. Sometimes. "Come on…" he cajoled. "It's just lunch, Bones."

The small smile appearing on her lips mirrored his, growing larger just as his did. "Okay, fine," she relented, relaxing beside him and keeping her arm locked with his. "But I'm paying this time."

"What? No, you're not, Bones. I'm the guy!" he protested, joyful at how easily they fell into a comfortable banter.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "That's such a sexist comment, Booth," she chided.

As they reached the street where Booth had parked his SUV, the two shared a secret, intimate smile. Laughter bubbled from Brennan's lips, intermingling with his own warm chuckle.

* * *

Okay, I didn't mean to add so much of the case in here. I'll try my best to incorporate more BB moments, Parker moments and introduce more of Brennan's kids, two of whom you guys didn't even get to meet here. For those of you who think Brennan is OOC here, or in future chapters, please bear in mind that she can't be EXACTLY the same as in the series since she has kids and that would've changed her somewhat.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. If not, please leave a line or two anyway to tell me what you think. Thank you!

Juliet.


	2. The Man in the SUV

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

* * *

_September 20, 2005_

"Asphyxiate," Rosalie murmured, grinning at her mother. "25 points."

It had been a tradition borne out of Brennan's idea to teach the twins vocabulary when they were younger, in a less strict, less boring setting, to play Scrabble every Tuesday night. It had continued on through the years and, for such a simple game, had been known to escalate dramatically especially between Rosalie and Wyatt.

Wyatt, sitting on the floor in between Brennan and Rosalie, frowned at the scrabble board on the coffee table. Rosalie was looking smug now, sure that her brother couldn't beat her this time.

But then Wyatt smirked at Rosalie and started to place letter blocks together. "Quadratrix," he said smugly. "27 points."

Rosalie glowered at him. "No, that doesn't count!" she protested.

"Does, too!"

Rose shook her head. "It's not even a word - it's a mathematical term," she argued. "Mom! Tell him!"

Wyatt, not one to be cheated of his points, glared right back at his twin. "It is used in the English language, even if it is a Mathematical term, so it counts," he snapped. "Mom! Tell _her_!"

Brennan placed a finger to her lips. "Shh!" she admonished them quietly, nodding in the direction of the couch where Zan had fallen asleep. "Your brother's asleep."

Zan, who had weaseled out an extra hour of TV time from Brennan despite his bed time, was fast asleep only fifteen minutes into his extra hour. Brennan smiled, rising to her feet and making her way to the couch. She scooped Zan's limp little body off the couch. He didn't even snuggle into her, the way he would have if he had stuck to his bed time. He was dead to the world. "Try not to kill each other while I put your brother in bed," she whispered to Rose and Wyatt, both still glowering at each other.

She shook her head, hoping she wouldn't find them wrestling each other when she returned.

Brennan made her way across the marble floors of her apartment and into the bedroom right next door to hers. The room was swathed in darkness, but she could still make out the twin beds from the little bit of light streaming in from the hallway. The bed on the right was already occupied, a tiny figure underneath the covers. Brennan made her way to the bed on the left, carefully putting Zan down and tucking the covers around him.

"Goodnight, baby," she murmured quietly, bending down to brush a soft kiss against Zan's forehead, brushing his dark hair back. "I love you."

She repeated the same thing to Demetri, despite having done so already when she'd tucked him in earlier, and went out of the room, checking to make sure their nightlight was on. She closed the door almost all the way, leaving a small gap so that neither of the boys would feel scared if they were to wake in the middle of the night.

She grabbed a plate of brownies she had made before dinner, with the little boys 'helping' her, before making her way to the living room - maybe some chocolate sweetness would help to appease the twins.

"Alright, who's up for some brownies?" she asked, stepping into the living room, just as her cell phone rang.

All three of them turned towards the phone, frowning. "Who's calling you in the middle of the night?" Wyatt wondered.

Brennan placed the plate of brownies on the coffee table - and, of course, the twins made a grab of for the same piece and started to fight over that despite there being several other pieces right next to the one they wanted - and grabbed her phone.

She saw the caller ID as it rang, sighing. "Booth," she muttered, shaking her head.

A quick phone call to the nanny later, Brennan was on her way to pick up Angela to head to the crime scene. It was, this time, in front of a café she wasn't familiar with. Thank God for GPS.

The crime scene, as all crime scenes were, was crawling with police units. This time, however, there were ambulances and fire trucks around as well. Brennan looked around for Booth, Angela by her side.

"Bones!" she heard someone call for her. If it wasn't the annoying nickname, she would've recognized the familiar masculine voice. She turned in Booth's direction. "Bones! Over here!"

Brennan frowned at him. "Where have you been?" she demanded. "You said you would meet us on the corner."

"There is a lot going on here in case you haven't noticed," Booth defended himself. He walked them up to a security guard obviously in charge of the crime scene. "These girls, they're with me. Dr. Temperance Brennan and Angela Montenegro from the Jeffersonian," he stated.

"I need ID," the security guard replied.

"Okay, check the R15 list - homeland security. She's the forensic anthropologist," Booth instructed.

The security guard does so, checking the list in his hands, while Booth read over his shoulder, pointing out Brennan's name when he caught it first. "They're clear," the security guard allowed.

"Thanks," Booth muttered. He turned to Brennan and Angela. "C'mon."

Booth led the two of them through the chaos of the crime scene, towards the remains of the SUV. As she walked, Brennan pulled her hair up into a ponytail, securing it with the scrunchie she always kept around her wrist for situations like these.

"God, what's that smell?" Angela asked, referring to the horrid stench that was becoming more and more potent as they neared the burnt vehicle.

Even though she didn't need to answer, Brennan did anyway, "Burnt flesh. Are there a lot of injuries?"

"Four known dead," Booth replied. "Fifteen injured."

Angela noticed the bodies trapped underneath the tarp around the burnt SUV just as Booth was listing the casualties. "Oh, my God," she whispered, her heart dropping to her stomach. Her very nauseous stomach.

"Details," Brennan demanded. "Whatever you have."

"Not much," Booth admitted. "Witnesses said they saw a Middle Eastern man, mid-thirties, pull up to the café and the car just blew. The vehicle is registered to a Hamid Masruk, head of the American-Arab Friendship League."

Brennan stopped short. "If you know who it is, why do you need me?" she inquired.

A man, also in a suit, approached the three of them. "Because we're hoping we're wrong," he answered Brennan's question. "Masruk is a White House consultant for Arab relations. Had lunch with the President just last week."

Booth, who had been hovering near Brennan, who was bent at the driver's side window of the burnt SUV, straightened up. "Remember Agent Gibson, Homeland Security?" he said to Brennan. He had to stifle a chuckle at the displeased expression that crossed Brennan's face at the reminder. He turned to his fellow agent to give introductions. "Dr. Temperance Brennan. Angela Montenegro."

Booth got back to business. "If Masruk was involved in a terrorist attack, it means we have a huge national security problem," he filled in for Agent Gibson, saying what his colleague didn't.

Brennan stepped around the SUV, looking into the passenger window.

"Not to mention a very humiliated president," Agent Gibson added. "The press is already running with this."

Brennan shot him a look. "If you think I'm going to alter my findings…" she trailed off tersely. She was an honest person, with an honest work ethic. She wouldn't be changing her findings and giving accurate ones, even if it was to save the president's face.

"Look, not at all," Gibson was quick to appease. "But maybe it's not Masruk. We need to be sure. Booth says you're the best."

Booth managed to tamp down the slight embarrassed blush at Gibson's words, making a mental note to talk to his old friend not to say things like that around Brennan. Thankfully, Brennan didn't even seem like she heard him. "I need surgical gloves and masks for the retrieval team," she told Booth. "Sterile medical bags - and vegetable oil."

Booth scrunched his eyebrows together. "Vegetable oil?" he questioned, walking over to Brennan.

"The oil will loosen the seared body parts stuck to the metal," Brennan explained. "It's no different than steak on a grill that sticks."

Booth swallowed, disgusted by the comparison. _There goes the all American BBQ weekend I'd planned for me and Parker_, he thought sourly.

Zack, Brennan's nerdy assistant, ran up to them with a bottle of oil. He handed it Booth while he handed surgical gloves to Brennan.

Booth gave Zack a forced smile. "It's okay. I trust you," he muttered, stepping back so the two could get to work.

"Should I photograph the scene?" Zack asked Brennan.

Brennan nodded. "Focus on a thirty meter radius from the blast," she instructed her student. Zack handed Brennan the medical bag she'd requested earlier, stepping away to do as he was told.

Angela, standing in the background, looked on, queasy, as Brennan stepped over to a body part lying on the ground.

Brennan threw Booth a look. "Okay to pick up?"

He gestured for her to go ahead. "You know, it's okay to be upset," he assured her, eyeing the way she seemed to be taking it all in stride.

Brennan scoffed. "I wish this is the worst I'd seen," she muttered in reply. She stifled a sigh before turning to Angela, handing her a medical bag so she could get started on retrieving body parts as well.

Angela shook her head. "You know…Uh, I don't think I can…Sorry," she said, truly apologetic but too overwhelmed to lend a helping hand.

Brennan took the bag Angela had given back to her and handed it to Booth instead. "Well, if you can't either…" she trailed off.

Booth took the bag from her. "No. I'm cool," he assured her. This wasn't the most pleasant jobs but, like Brennan, he'd seen much worse. Besides, no matter how nauseating it was, he didn't want to seem like a wuss in front of the fearless doctor.

BBBBBBB

Brennan sat on the floor in her office, papers from the file and the information Zack had handed to her spread out in front of her. She had been going through the papers over and over again for hours, trying to find evidence in them that she couldn't yet discover from Masruk's bones.

She was startled when she heard Angela's voice from the entrance of her office. "Hard at work?"

Brennan looked up to see Angela entering the office. "There's a stalker," she joked half-heartedly, referring to all the paperwork and photos of Masruk that Masruk's wife had provided.

Brennan sighed. "I just saw his wife," she told Angela. "She gave me his medical records, photographs…Apparently, he was ill. They were testing for Lupus, which would explain the face. It must've been painful."

Angela gazed at her friend, half in sadness and half in apology. "Look I…I know that you need help out there," she started. "At the crime scene. And I wanted to but…"

Brennan waved away her apology. "It's okay," she assured her friend. "You see it. I don't anymore. I don't know what's worse." She heaved herself off the floor and sat down on her couch.

Angela eyed her with worry in her pretty brown eyes. "You holding up okay?" she asked, joining Brennan on the couch.

"His wife doesn't believe it was him," Brennan said. "I've got to give her an ID."

Angela nodded. "Whatever I can do."

Brennan gave her a small smile. "Yeah, I know."

Abruptly, Angela had changed the subject. "And about this weekend…"

Brennan shook her head slightly. "Angela, I don't know…"

"Oh, come on," Angela coaxed.

"I don't know," Brennan repeated.

Angela sighed, tilting her head to the side. "Brennan, I know this great club. They play trip hop and trance…" she kept talking, hoping to entice her friend.

And, of course, all Brennan could come up with was, "I don't know what that means."

Angela waved it aside. "It doesn't matter," she said. "We'll grab Booth."

"No," Brennan was firm on this one. What had happened during their last case had been…Troublesome. And even though Booth had enticed her into having lunch with him at Sid's after Cleo's funeral, she and Booth hadn't seen or spoken to each other since until he'd called her for this new case. It would be strange and awkward having him around in a social setting. She didn't want that.

"I think he likes you," Angela teased. _You have no idea, Angela_, Brennan scoffed in her head, willing the blush rising to her cheeks down. "God if I were you I'd buy a ticket on that ride."

Brennan decided to change the subject. "Look, I'm going to be very busy this weekend. I've got to drive Rose over to her overnight camp thing, then I've got to wait for Christian to pick Zan and Demetri up, and Wyatt still has that girl he's fawning all over…" she shook her head before pointing to the buckets of bones on her floor. "Besides, even after the ID, I have these."

"Remains from WWI," Angela stated wryly.

Brennan nodded. "That's what the institution pays me for," she reminded Angela. "I've got hundreds of these waiting."

Angela raised one delicate, perfectly shaped eyebrow. "And they can't wait one more weekend?" she asked, her tone incredulous.

"They've got relatives," Brennan sighed. "They've waited long enough."

Angela shook her head. "Yeah, uh-huh. I just think it speaks volumes that your own kid is getting more action than you are," she said. When Brennan looked her way, Angela said, more gently than before, "You know it's not that scary, Brennan. You have a few drinks. You move to the music. You might even smile."

Before Brennan could reply, Zack was knocking on the door, telling them that the bones of the burn victim were finally flesh-free, cleaned and ready to be inspected.

"I've gotta run," Brennan said to Angela, jumping off the couch. "You hang around. I may need you."

BBBBBBB

She wasn't really sure why she was on her way to Booth's apartment when it was past work hours. Sure, she had the ID of the bomber sitting in the passenger's seat of her car, but that could've waited until the morning. She could even just call him if she wanted him to know so badly.

But there she was, in her car, driving towards Booth's apartment.

Maybe it was Angela's words, yet again, ringing in her ears, about how she should take the chance with Booth and how she should live a little instead of focusing on her work all the time. Whatever it was, she didn't allow herself to give it much thought, or to even over think it the way she would every other thing in her life.

She simply put it in the back of her mind, pretended it didn't exist, and parked in an empty space in Booth's apartment parking lot.

Brennan knocked on the door just as Booth was shucking off his clothes to jump into the shower. Grumbling under his breath, he swiped his white dress shirt from the floor and threw it on, not bothering to button it up.

He threw open the door without checking to see who it was, surprised when he saw Temperance Brennan standing on the other side of it.

"Bones?" he asked stupidly.

"Yeah," she replied anyway, her eyes flickering over his naked torso before she caught herself and quickly snapped her gaze back to his face.

The small smirk lifting the corners of his mouth told her he'd caught her, and she scowled. _Cocky bastard_. "Did we have an appointment?" he asked politely, keeping up an innocently professional charade.

"No, uh…It's him," she handed him the folder in her hands, mentally cursing herself for sounding so flustered. "Masruk is the bomber."

"Mm-hmm," he said, stepping aside to let her in. Brennan slipped into his apartment, carefully avoiding any physical contact with him. He closed the door behind her and begun flipping through the folder. "I guess the wife didn't know the husband very well."

He looked up to see Brennan just staring at him, shifting her weight from one foot to another as she stood awkwardly in his foyer. "Well the Bureau…I was just heading to the Bureau. Santana called and said something about a bombing and I thought you were at the lab. Maybe, uh you should come," he suggested

Brennan gave him a guarded smile. "Sure," she said.

Booth gave her one of his patented charm smiles. "Have a seat, Bones," he urged, nodding at the couch in his living room.

Brennan shook her head once. "Uh, no, thanks…I'll just stand," she insisted, wincing at how stupid she sounded yet again. "You'll be quick, right?"

He shrugged. "I was gonna grab a shower for a bit, actually…Do you mind? I mean…I wouldn't ask but I was out on the field all day. Sorta feel gross," he looked so sheepish that Brennan couldn't help but laugh, relaxing. "I mean, I won't be long. Just a few minutes."

She nodded, tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. "No, yeah, sure, go ahead," she assured him. "I'm good. You don't mind me being here, do you?"

"Nah," he waved her question aside, gesturing with his hand. "You're fine." He gently grabbed her by the elbow and led her towards the living room. "So just…Sit and, uh, watch some TV or something."

She nodded, smiling, as though she really was going to watch some TV. "Do you want anything?" Booth ploughed on, the awkwardness finally settling in for him as well. "I've got…Water. And beer."

Brennan gave him an amused smirk. "We're working - we shouldn't drink," she reminded him.

He chuckled, clearing his throat. "Oh, yeah. Right," he released his hold on her elbow. "Alright. Okay, I'm just gonna head into the shower now…" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

She nodded, moving to place the folder he'd given back to her on the coffee table. Unfortunately, he'd moved at the same time and they bumped awkwardly into each other.

"Oh, sorry…" Booth muttered, at the same time Brennan said, "Sorry, didn't mean to…"

But her hands were now placed on his muscular arms, and his large hands were splayed across her hips, steadying her. As Brennan straightened up, their hands still holding onto each other, Booth swallowed. She was barely an inch from him. If he were to tilt his head to the left, he would '_accidentally_' brush his lips against her forehead.

"Um…" Brennan murmured. "You should probably get to your, uh…"

She had lifted her head, to look at him while she spoke, and to give him an apologetic smile, but then their eyes had connected - were his eyes always so dark? They seemed blacker instead of the warm brown she was getting used to - and her words had died in her throat.

There was a moment, a very prominent, very still moment, when it was actually deafeningly silent in the apartment and everything seemed to stand still despite how impossible that was. Then, as though they were in a movie instead of real life, the still moment broke. Brennan was now aware of the blood rushing to her ears. Booth was now aware of how his heart was pounding painfully fast in his chest.

And the two of them converged, moving together, moving closer, without even realizing what they were doing. She tilted her head to the side just as his lips sought hers out, both of them moaning loudly at the sensation of their mouths moving frantically together.

"God, I've missed this," Booth murmured between kisses, the gravely quality of his voice sending shivers down Brennan's spine. "I've missed kissing you."

"Mmmpfh," Brennan moaned, gasping as his lips starting to travel down her neck, arching her body into his and loving the way his hands splayed across her back, so large against her small frame. "Me too," she admitted, something she probably would've never done if she wasn't so blinded with lust.

Booth backed Brennan up a few steps, until she was pressed against the bare wall next to the couch. Like she had back at the shooting range, Brennan lifted her legs and hooked them around Booth's waist. Unlike back at the shooting range, everything was so much more…Urgent somehow.

Her hands were at his chest, pushing the unbuttoned dress shirt past his shoulders and down his arms until they pooled at his feet. Booth's nimble fingers were hurriedly unfastening the buttons of her blazer, their mouths branding searing kisses on each other's lips even as he tugged her shirt loose and threw it onto the floor.

Booth pried his lips away from Brennan's, half shocked at how difficult it was to do just that, and his eyes fell upon her chest. He cursed under his breath. "Lace, Bones?" he quirked an eyebrow at her, surprised he was able to say even that through the haze of lust clouding up his mind. "You wear this underneath your clothes everyday?"

Brennan grinned at him, her hands sliding up his face in a gentle caress to grip at the back of his head. "This is the tamest underwear I own, Booth," she whispered into his mouth, causing him to groan, his eyelids fluttering close as they kissed violently.

They fumbled a little, making their way closed-eyed to the couch. They fell onto the futon, Brennan pinned underneath Booth, and he tried to keep his weight off of her as much as he could.

"No, want to feel you," Brennan murmured, almost incoherently, pulling Booth down towards her. "Love to feel you…" her hands were greedy as they explored his bare torso, lingering as she felt his muscled abdominals.

Booth felt his eyes roll into the back of his head when Brennan, legs still locked around his waist, started to undulate her hips against his. The rocking motions against him, the warmth he could feel even through her dress pants…It was getting to be too much. Breaking away from her kiss, he kept his arms around her, dropping his forehead onto hers. "We've gotta slow down here, Bones," he whispered.

She blinked at him innocently, even through clouded, stormy dark blue eyes. "Why?" she asked, her voice huskier than normal.

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath of her magnolia-scented hair. "Because," he barked out a harsh laugh. "I'm about to lose my mind here…"

Brennan trailed her hands down his chest, smiling into his throat as she leaned up to press kisses on his bare skin. "I thought that was the point?" she asked rhetorically.

"It's just…It's you, and it's me," Booth said, not really making any sense to Brennan. "It's different between us."

His words from a year ago came back to her and her eyes flew up to him, full of understanding. "You believe that whatever might be happening between us is going somewhere," she clarified. He bit his lip, nodding. She hesitated for a moment. "Listen, Booth…I can't promise you much here. I don't even know for sure what we're doing…I mean…Well, you know…"

She chuckled, an adorable grin spreading across her lips. Booth had to laugh, one hand smoothing back her soft hair from her lovely face. "But I know that I want you," she continued, and the smile slipped from his face, desire flaring in his eyes once more. "I also know that our partnership, however new it is, means a lot to me. So, if you don't think we can do this without screwing it up…"

They stared at each other, a silent conversation in place.

_I'm scared_.

_Me, too_.

_I want you_.

_I want you, too_.

_So badly, Bones. I want you so badly. But there are repercussions_.

_Our partnership is very important_.

_It is_.

_Let's take it slow_.

_Okay_.

_I want to kiss you_.

_So kiss me_.

Booth smiled, leaning down to brush a gentle kiss against Brennan's lips. But one taste wasn't enough, so he pressed another kiss. And another. And then it became not so gentle, but searing, branding, claiming. Possessive. Then he was kissing her, just giving her one kiss that was made up of a million tiny little kisses, both not pulling away for air, both too lost in sensation. Lost in passion.

His hands had drifted down to her torso and when skin touched bare skin, he groaned. He'd almost forgotten that he'd taken off her shirt. Almost. His eyes fell again to her lace-covered cleavage, one hand lifting to trail gently over the soft mounds. Brennan watched him behind heavy lids, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth.

Booth looked at her, briefly, as though seeking permission, and the lust-addled look she gave him seem to be it. He crawled slowly down her body, pressing kisses down her long, creamy neck and reaching behind her to undo the clasp of her bra. Peeling the material away from her skin, he groaned at the sight of her, exposed to him. "You look so gorgeous, Bones," he whispered against her skin, lips pressed to her breast, wet tongue wrapped around her nipple, tugging and pulling in a way that had her arching from the couch.

"Booth…" Brennan breathed, tugging until he was kissing her again, their frantic pace from before consuming them all over again. This time, her hands were drifting down his abdomen, drifting lower and lower still.

Booth hissed when she cupped him through his pants. "Bones," he choked. "Give a guy a warning, would ya?"

She rolled her eyes, impatient. "We're half naked, Booth," she pointed out. "How much more of a warning do you need?"

Strangely enough, in some weird sort of masochistic way, her annoyed, impatient tone had him even more aroused than before. It had him practically mauling her lips with his own as his hands went to her slacks, tugging them off in one smooth action. His mouth dropped to her throat, gently nibbling on the fading hickey he'd given her on her neck last week before descending even lower. Brennan gasped, squirming a little, at the feel of his smooth warm marble lips gliding across her skin, kissing her stomach, reaching her hip bones…

Booth hooked his fingers through the thin material of her panties - red lace, to match her bra - and lifted his gaze to Brennan's eyes. "May I…?"

"You'd better," was her reply.

He managed to quirk a grin at that - she was bossy even in bed. He wasn't surprised, though he _was_ oddly aroused by that.

He tugged the lacy garment down her smooth, toned legs and tossed it somewhere to his left, and then…Then he was spreading her legs apart, and his mouth was on her, and he was licking and sucking and probing and drawing figure eights with his tongue…Brennan cried out at the sudden attack of his talented mouth on her, her hands reaching above her head to grasp at something - anything - and finding only a soft couch pillow which she gripped tightly.

Booth moaned, sending vibrations against her bare flesh, as he lowered his head down between Brennan's thighs - she smelled so lovely, so sweet and musky, and when his mouth pressed to her glistening center and his tongue darted out to taste her…Damn, he just loved the way she tasted and smelled. His mouth and tongue began a frantic pace he hadn't meant to set, his eagerness to just get _moremoremore_ driving him wild. He pushed her thighs even further apart, his hands gripping her gently by her milky white thighs, and his tongue traced the edges of her entrance. At her low moan, Booth set about to draw first one lip and then the other into his mouth, suckling as hard as he dared, before pulling her throbbing, pink clit into his mouth.

Brennan cried out, her fingers digging into the material of the couch cushion, and her teeth biting down hard enough on her lower lips to draw blood. "Booth…" her low groan turned into a wordless cry as he swirled his tongue around the hard nub.

She was glistening, so damn much, with her sweet nectar and he lapped it all up earnestly before thrusting his tongue deep into slick heat. Both of them moaned this time, a growl escaping Booth's lips as a new flood of her juices flowed to his tongue. He slid his tongue as deep inside of her as he could go, curling it inside her walls and dragging his tongue deliberately slow up along her walls as he pulled out. She was tightening around him, tightening so painfully sweet, and he smiled against her flesh when she let out a little scream as he unwrapped one large hand from around her thigh and dipped his fingers inside of her, joining his tongue in pleasuring her. Her walls fluttered as Booth moved his fingers hard and fast, pulling his tongue out of her to suck her clit back into his mouth, hard.

She whispered his name over and over as her orgasm washed over her, her eyes rolling into the back of her head at the sensory overload and her mouth dropping open as a scream of pleasure left her lips.

Booth kept his head between her legs, her hands having drifted down to tangle in his short, dark hair and holding him there as she rode out her pleasure. His fingers continued to massage her inner walls, though this was a soothing sort of caress, with soft and gentle strokes, instead of the frantic movements earlier, and he was pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs.

When her aftershocks had died down, Booth slowly withdrew his fingers from inside of her. He crawled back up her gorgeous body, pressing random kisses onto her skin as he did so, until he was hovering above her once more. Brennan gazed up at him, not quite sure how to express to him in spoken words how she felt. The gentle smile he wore, and the warm look in his sparkling eyes, told her that maybe she didn't have to speak. Booth leaned down, his mouth falling on hers for what he intended to be a quick kiss. There was just something, though, about the taste of herself in his mouth…It tugged low in her belly, surprising even herself considering she was barely over the orgasm he'd given her seconds ago. It was when he'd pulled back and made to rise from the couch when she took over.

Brennan rose with him until they were kneeling chest to chest on their knees, then with a playful grin on her face, pushed him with her hands on his chest. Booth fell backward and landed flat on his back on his couch, laughing as his hands came up to cup Brennan's hips. "I want a taste," Brennan told him, her voice soft and low and husky, doing dangerous things - very dangerous things - to his body. She was already moving down his body, her soft, warm lips wrapping around his right nipple and tugging almost painfully with his teeth for a moment. A shock of arousal rushed to his groin, and Booth shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't so sure he could handle that so soon after watching her orgasm for him. She was beautiful all the time, stunning without even realizing it, but when she came, her lips parted as she screamed for him… God, it was _incredible_.

"Bones…You really don't have to…" he was saying, even as she kissed down his sternum, her soft hair tickling his skin as she went.

"But I want to," she protested, lifting her head to look at him with those deceptively innocent baby blues. "Don't you want me to be happy?"

"That's just not fair," he managed to ground out as Brennan kissed along his hip bone, her fingers pulling at his zipper and yanking his pants and Flintstones boxers down to his ankles in one go. "You're manipulating me."

She chuckled, low and feminine, pressing tiny kisses on the inside of his thigh, her hands smoothing up and down his thighs. He was perfect, so very perfect, Brennan realized. Longer than any man she'd ever been with, and thicker than any man she'd ever been with. "Feel free to stop me," she challenged as her lips hovered an inch above his erection. And when he didn't, she was suddenly engulfing him, her mouth taking him in as much as she could. She moaned against him, loving how he felt like velvet steel and tasted so damn…_Masculine_.

"Oh, God," he choked out - her mouth was warm and wet and hot and tight…It was as good, if not better, than having his fingers and tongue inside of her. His hips lifted off the couch slightly without his consent, undulating against her mouth, and she chuckled around him. Booth gripped the back of the couch with one hand, and tangled his fingers in her hair with the other, biting at his lip to keep himself focused and not force himself down her throat or anything.

She smiled as she took him in - it was easy to see that she was driving him crazy. His thighs were quivering as she moved her lips up and down the length of him, and his hands were gripping at the material of the futon, his teeth gritted together. Placing soft nibbles with her teeth as she slid her lips up and down his member, Brennan lifted her hands to touch him. One hand caressed his balls, alternating with her lips on _hardandfast_ and _softandslow_. The other reached up to stroke the length of him she couldn't take into her mouth - he was a very impressive man. When he came, the guttural sound that tore from his throat only served to tighten her belly even more. His seed was warm and salty and tasted like Booth, so she kept her mouth around him, his length deep in her throat, and eagerly swallowed everything he had to offer.

When it was over she started to rise from the couch, her mouth leaving him, but he reached out to stop her. "You're not going anywhere," he growled as his hands gripped her by the hips.

Brennan chuckled, protesting with her words even as she laid on top of him, naked skin touching naked skin, her head tucked underneath his chin, one hand wrapped under his arm and the other on his chest, drawing random patterns on his sweaty skin. "We have to go, Booth," she said, sighing in contentment as his hands stroked up and down her back languorously. "We've got the ID and the bureau called…"

"Mm-hmm," he murmured sleepily. "We're going," but they weren't. They were still tangled on the couch, Brennan on top of Booth, just laying together.

She allowed herself to just enjoy the moments for a little while before the urgency of work came creeping back into her mind. "Booth," she lifted her head to look at him. He was still wearing a lazy smile though his eyes were more wide awake now. "We really do have to go…And I'm not sure we should've done this…I didn't intend for this to happen, you know? It just did -"

"Hey, I was there, Bones," he shushed her gently. "I know. Listen, we'll take this one step at a time. Okay?"

Brennan bit her lip, staring at him with wide, slightly panicked eyes. Did she want a one night stand or a fling with Booth? She wasn't unfamiliar with either, but somehow, something in Booth's eyes, in his smile, his demeanor, told her that either of those things weren't actually a possibility with him. So did she want to try for something more? Was she ready enough for something like that? Did she think Booth was trustworthy enough to know about her four angels, the way he ultimately would if they were to embark on this…Thing, whatever it was?

The answer to that last one came at her full force, shocking herself. _Yes_. There was something about this man that had her trusting him with her life the very same day she'd ever met him, so yes, she thought he was trustworthy enough.

So, taking a deep breath, she took a chance. "Okay," she agreed, her voice soft.

Booth felt the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. It was obvious she had been pondering his question, working it out in that big genius brain of hers if what they had was worth pursuing. Just one word - _okay_ - was enough, definitely enough coming from her.

So her reached up with one hand, his arm still wrapped around her naked torso, and tangled his fingers in her silken locks, tilting her head slightly so he could kiss her. What he had intended to be just a short little peck, to show her he understood and that he wouldn't push and they could go at her pace if she wanted, turned into something more. The taste of her sweet scent, mixed in with something salty that he knew must've been him, was strangely addictive and he found himself with his eyes sliding shut and a low moan escaping his mouth and into hers.

Brennan pulled back as she felt something pressing into her stomach. Pulling back from his kiss, she looked him in the eye and said, "You have excellent recovery time."

He laughed, a strangled sound that she found amusing yet arousing at the same time, and blinked at her. "Bones, now really isn't a good time to be making comments like that… Not when you're right about us having to get back to work," he warned.

She was about to respond when there was another knock at the door. Booth let his head fall back against the couch, sighing. If this were only a dream, now would be the time when it transforms into a nightmare…Maybe my boss or my mother coming by or something, he mused to himself. His groan of discontent blended into one of pure pleasure as Brennan began laving kisses on his exposed throat. The fingers in her hair tightened slightly and he was just about to suggest they forget whomever was at the door and take this to the bedroom when someone knocked on his door again, this time louder and more insistent.

Brennan pressed a quick, hot, open-mouthed kiss on his lips before standing up. Booth watched in disappointment as she gathered her clothes and started putting them back on. She spared a glance his way, smirking a little. "Unless you want to answer the door naked, Booth, you'd better pull up your pants," she commented.

"Ugh," he replied, chuckling along with her as he stood, pulling up his boxers and pants which were still around his ankles. He shot a look at Brennan, who was already looking almost flawless. Her clothes weren't nearly as rumpled as his were and the blush that had spread across her ivory pale skin had gone down somewhat. The only noticeable evidence of what they'd been up to were the way her hair was all mussed up even as she tried to fix it like before - _sex hair_, he thought with an internal laugh - the way her lips were still unmistakably swollen red and the satisfied look on her face.

Of course, he was nowhere near satisfied. Not that it hadn't been great for him, it had. No doubt. But she had been so sexy, so beautiful, and he was getting all worked up again when the door had rang. He wanted her again and here she was forcing him to answer doors and get back to work.

Sighing in frustration, Booth stormed over to the door and flung it open with looking through the peep hole, ready to yell or at the very least glare menacingly at whomever was on the other side.

Of course, that was before he took into account who it really was.

Tessa.

His ex girlfriend.

The one he'd broken up with over a month ago and hadn't seen since.

"Tessa," he said, completely surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Tessa seemed as surprised to see him, and he wondered why since she had been the one who'd came over to his apartment, but when her hazel eyes flickered over his body, he realized why and quickly, awkwardly, began to button up his shirt. "Uh…I just came by to…Uh, pick up my things," Tessa said, her eyes flickering over to somewhere over his shoulder.

He looked behind him to see Brennan watching the scene with a curious look in her eyes, her face impassively blank. _Okay, current might-be girlfriend versus ex girlfriend_, Booth thought to himself. _No reason to panic. No reason at all_. "Oh, yeah," he nodded at Tessa. "I put 'em in a box somewhere…You left them here for a month. Come in."

Tessa gave him a small, awkward smile. "Yeah, sorry," she apologized. "I had this really big case I just couldn't get a break on, then there was a conference and my aunt sort of…" she trailed off, heaving a big sigh. "Anyway, I'm sorry. If you still have them…?"

He nodded. "I put them in the hall closet in case you ever came by to get them," he assured her. He closed the door and walked over to Brennan. "Bones, this is Tessa," he winced. He hated making introductions like these. Then again, what guy didn't? "Tessa Jankow, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

Tessa's eyes lit up a little in recognition. "Oh, hi," she said, reaching out a hand. "I've read your book…It's really great."

Brennan smiled, a little uncomfortable. Not just with the compliment, although she was always unsure of how to react when people came up to her to tell her what a great book she'd written, but because this was clearly Booth's ex-girlfriend and she was here, when Brennan had just…It was strange and a little awkward, especially since she herself had no idea what Booth was to her at the moment. "Thanks," she shook Tessa's hand.

There was an awkward pause where no one said a thing for a few moments. "Bones is an anthropologist," Booth blurted out.

Tessa smiled slightly. "Yeah, I read about that," she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "At the back of your book. I'm not as interesting - corporate lawyer. Keeping the fat cats fat."

Brennan nodded. "I was just studying a cranial fissure on a corporate attorney last week," she offered. Tessa's shocked expression and Booth's amused one told her she probably hadn't said the right thing. _Then again, who knew what the right thing to say was in a situation like this_? "Of course he was dead, so…"

"Interesting," Tessa said, trying to keep the disgust out of her voice.

"Thanks."

Booth finished buttoning up his shirt, tucking it into his pants. He reached down to zip up the zipper just as Tessa looked his way to ask him about her belongings. She looked away immediately - something Brennan was uncharacteristically happy about. "Um…Look, if you could just get my things…? I have to be somewhere…"

Booth nodded. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Just hold on a sec." He gave Brennan a look as he passed, almost as if to convey the message '_behave_'. She returned a defensive look, as if to say '_When have I not_?' Booth decided to hurry.

He needn't have worried because neither Brennan nor Tessa had much to say to one another without Booth around. They just gave each other awkward smiles and stood in front of each other, waiting for him to return. Tessa looked around the place, pretending to find something interesting in the walls or the coffee table, while Brennan blatantly watched Tessa, taking in her symmetrical features.

Booth returned a few seconds later, a white colored box in his hands, looking a little flushed like he had been hurrying. "Here," he handed the box to Tessa. "That's everything."

Tessa gave him a genuine, small, smile. "Thanks," she said. "Um…Well, I guess this is it. Bye, Seeley."

He nodded, smiling back at her in return. Their break-up hadn't been a terrible one. It hadn't included cheating or lots of arguments or anything like that. They'd just drifted apart and had realized they weren't meant to be. "Yeah, bye, Tessa."

Tessa nodded once in Brennan's direction, trying to keep the envy out of her expression. She and Seeley Booth might not have worked out, but one had to be blind not to notice what a catch he was. "It was nice meeting you, Dr. Brennan," she said amicably. Giving Booth a look, she added quietly, "Good luck."

When she had gone, Brennan turned to Booth with a confused expression on her face. "Good luck with what?" she inquired innocently.

Booth gave her a boyish grin, finding himself charmed with her adorable naiveté. "Nothing, Bones," he quickly deflected. He didn't need to start scaring her away with talks about relationships - especially the one he wanted with her.

Brennan opened her mouth to argue, stubborn, but a certain buzzing noise made them both look towards the stand by the door. Booth reached over and grabbed his cell phone. Reading the message that had just been sent over to him, he sighed. "There goes my shower," he said, shooting Brennan a playful smile to let her know he wasn't really annoyed by what had transpired in lieu of his shower earlier. "We've got to get going. Santana's getting impatient."

Risking a sharp knee jab to his jewels like he knew she wouldn't hesitate to give, he leaned down, tangling his fingers in her hair softly, and brushed a kiss on her lips. When she didn't protest, and her lips even chased his when he'd pulled away, he gave her another soft kiss. And another. "C'mon. Let's get going," he murmured finally, when he'd gathered up enough strength to stop touching her, kissing her.

He grabbed his keys and the folder and led Brennan out the door of his apartment.

She was quiet all through the ride to the Hoover - he'd managed to convince her to take his SUV instead of her car for this - and he let her stew. He knew she was probably thinking about what had happened between them back at his apartment, and possibly even wondering about Tessa, and he had to let her think. That was one of the things she did best and he wasn't going to screw with that. When she was ready, they'd talk.

As it turned out, letting her think all on her own and not giving his own input didn't seem to be such a good thing, as he discovered as they were riding in the elevator in the Hoover to get to Santana's office.

There they were, just standing next to each other in silence, when Brennan started chuckling, shaking her head with a smile on her face.

"Okay, what is so funny?" he asked, baffled.

Brennan shook her head slightly. "I just never figured you being in a relationship," she admitted, laughing.

His eyebrows drew together. "Why, do you think something's wrong with me?" he asked, more than just a tad offended.

The elevator stopped moving and when the doors slid open, the two of them stepped off the elevator, entering the bullpen. "Not wrong," she was quick to reassure. "You just have alpha male attributes usually associated with a solitary existence."

"What? Me?" he reeled his head back in shock. "_You're_ solitary."

She shook her head in disagreement. "No. No, I'm _private_. It's different. And we weren't talking about me."

"Well, I was."

"Well, I wasn't," she shot back. "Look, I'm happy for you. That you and Tessa were… You know. I mean, obviously you're not together anymore, but clearly that's what you were going for. Having a relationship, I mean. And that's good. Relationships have anthropological meaning. No society can survive if sexual bonds aren't formed bet…"

Booth stopped her right there. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked incredulously, shaking his head and blinking his eyes in bafflement. He started talking again before Brennan could answer his rhetorical question - he really didn't need an anthropological reason for his ideas on what relationships should mean. "Look, Bones, I don't do meaningless sex and I don't do meaningless relationships."

Her brilliant blue eyes looked over to him, this time an almost whitish gray color. He decided it was the color of fear. "But, you and me…?" she trailed off.

Booth nodded, stopping and pulling her aside to a sort of secluded corner so that no one could hear his next words to her. "You and me, Bones," he spoke, his voice low and gravely. Brennan's eyes were riveted to him. "I meant what I said a year ago. I think what we have…I think we're going somewhere, and dammit, I want to find out. I'm not here to play around with you, Bones. But I'm not going to rush you, either. We'll go at your pace. We can take it slow. I'm not going to force you into doing or saying anything you're just not ready for. If you don't want that…If you're not ready for that, then you need to tell me because I can't go for this the back out and have everything be okay. If you don't want this, then we need to stop."

Her breath hitched in her throat as he stepped closer to her, just a breadth apart from her. "But if you do want this," his voice was soft, so tender but so masculine, so firm…She loved it. Not that she would ever admit that. "If you want this, then I've got to let you know that I'm going to be all in. I won't let you go without a fight, and I fight hard, Bones. I won't give up on you, on us."

She didn't reply, but simply held his gaze for the longest moment. "Why?" she asked, her voice coming out a hushed whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again, still speaking in a low tone. "Why me? Why us? Do you always fight for all the women in your life?"

He let the corners of his mouth curl upwards slightly. "No," he admitted. "Not as much as I'm going to fight for you."

"Why?" she repeated again, curious.

His hand discretely touched hers. "Because you're Bones," was his simple reply. "You're special."

They stayed that way for the longest time, both lost in each other's gaze and not at all paying attention to the rest of the bustling bullpen. Booth knew that Brennan would need time to sort all of this out, and Brennan was simply glad that he wasn't going to pressurize her into giving an answer now - she'd need to make a logical data, maybe a pro-con list…Talk to Angela. She wasn't very adept at making a decision like this all on her own.

They stayed that way, untouched by the world outside their little bubble, until they were interrupted by Santana coming out of his office. "Booth," Santana called out.

Booth's eyes fluttered shut slightly, as though he regretted that he and Brennan were in the Hoover instead of somewhere private, but they snapped open almost immediately after. His fingers squeezed Brennan's once before letting go. He cleared his throat and spun around to face his boss. "Yes, sir?"

"You got that ID?" Santana asked gruffly, choosing wisely not to say anything about the way the two partners had been standing so intimately close with one another. It wasn't his business and he didn't need to interfere. Besides, this was _Booth_. Santana knew Booth wouldn't jeopardize work with meaningless flings, no matter how beautiful his co-worker was.

Booth nodded, scowling a little at the appreciative glance Santana gave Brennan. "Yeah. It was Masruk," he confirmed.

"Oh, that's too bad."

Brennan gave him a confused look. "He killed four people and injured another fifteen," she reminded Santana.

"The report came back from ballistics. Now the explosives were placed under the care with the trigger connected to the odometer," Santana informed them, a meaningful expression on his face. "Masruk was murdered."

"So Masruk wasn't a terrorist," Brennan said in revelation, leaning into Booth's side to read the report Santana had handed to him.

Booth shook his head. "Somebody tried to make him look like one," he finished Brennan's thought. "Any leads on who did it?" he asked his boss.

Santana smirked. "That's why we're paying you, Booth."

BBBBBBB

After the interrogation with Hamid's wife, Booth and Brennan made their way to Sid's for a quick lunch. The duo took their place at the bar, still arguing over Booth's assumption of Sahar.

"She was having an affair!" Booth insisted.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry but that's an offensive assumption," she disagreed stubbornly.

Well, if she wasn't going to give him high blood pressure and enough stress to give him a heart attack at the age of thirty-three, she wouldn't be Brennan. So he ploughed ahead, arguing with her. "Well all the signs are there."

"You can't make wild assumptions about somebody's personal life based on a feeling," she countered.

"It's more than a feeling," he argued. "Okay? That photograph is evidence just as solid as the markers you squints pick up looking at your little bones."

Brennan looked insulted by that. "The evidence that I find is empirical!" she stated. "What you consider evidence is merely conviction."

"She dyed her hair!" he pointed out. "She lost weight. You know she shoved a little Botox in her forehead. She's still feeling guilty over the last fight she had with her husband."

Brennan was so annoyed by him that she barely acknowledged Angela joining them at the bar from wherever she had been sitting at before. "Ugh!" she shook her head. "You are an insufferable, arrogant man."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, so only a woman could know a woman? I thought women wanted us to understand them," he commented snarkily.

"Not really," Angela answered for Brennan. "A magician never wants to reveal her tricks."

Booth shot her an irritated look. "We're having a private conversation," he told her. Truth be told, he'd wanted to see if he could get Bones to calm down enough to have a conversation that didn't pertain to whether or not their victim's wife had been cheating on him and had more to do with the two of them, as might-be lovers, out during lunch enjoying their time together. Or, if not, maybe he could persuade her into a hot, angry make-out session. God, Brennan was sexy when she was angry…If her kisses were fiery when she wasn't angry…He wondered how they would be when she was.

"I'm not here," Angela assured him with a wolfish grin. She just wanted to see more of Booth and Brennan bickering - it was always fun and strangely hot.

Brennan, ignoring Angela's and Booth's exchange, gave Booth an incredulous look. "So you think you know women just because you lived with some sexy lawyer?" she asked. "Unbelievable."

_And why do we always come back to Tessa_? Booth asked himself, shaking his head. When he'd seen Brennan's ex boyfriend being kicked out of her place, he hadn't mentioned him at all despite his curiosity.

Booth rolled his eyes at Brennan's assumption, a snort of laughter escaping his lips.

"You live with a sexy lawyer?" Angela perked up, suddenly much more interested in the conversation than she had been before, when she had just been waiting for Booth and Brennan to jump each other right there at the bar.

Booth threw her an annoyed glare. "She said 'lived'. Tessa and I aren't together anymore," he said to Angela. And to Brennan, "And we didn't live together. She had her own place, okay?"

Brennan ignored him. "He thinks just because Masruk's wife started working out and had a little make-over, she's having an affair," she complained to Angela.

"Hmm," Angela hummed. "And how long were they married?"

"Eleven years," Booth supplied.

Angela gave Brennan an apologetic look. "I'm with him," she said, causing Booth to give Brennan a smug look.

"There is no concrete proof!" Brennan argued.

"Boobs perkier?"

"Mmm-hmm," Booth smiled slightly.

"I don't believe this," Brennan scowled at the both of them. "If you're so sure then why didn't you confront her?"

"Because," Angela interjected before Booth could answer. "If she or her boyfriend were involved, she would warn him."

"Very good," Booth praised, obviously surprised that a squint could've come up with a conclusion a cop would.

Angela beamed at him in thanks. "I'm a constant surprise," she stood up from the bar stool. "Alright, great," she said through gritted teeth, unable to explain even to herself why she was so agitated over this. "I will be in the lab getting us some real data."

Booth sighed as he watched Brennan grabbed her purse and left. _There goes my angry make-out plan_, he thought sadly. Angela, still next to Booth at the bar, gave him a wide grin. "So…How many nights a week did sexy sleep over?"

Booth rolled his eyes heavenward. "Ha, ha, ha," he said sarcastically. "Not together anymore, Angela. Try to remember that."

BBBBBBB

They were back at Sid's, except this time it was nighttime.

Farid was dead, courtesy of Booth's sniper skills, and the world was rid of one more bomber. Of course, this doesn't make the guilt of taking another human life dissipate for Booth. If anything, he was drowning in it.

He was seated at the bar, drink in hand and Brennan by his side. "You know I told them to tell the press it was an undercover operation," Booth divulged to his partner.

Brennan looked at him with confusion in her pretty eyes. "But it would be a rose garden ceremony," she said, the bafflement obvious in her tone. "That's an honor, right? I thought you FBI guys loved your medals?"

Booth smirked a little before even that dropped from his handsome face. "There's no pleasure in taking someone's life," he said solemnly. "Nothing to celebrate."

Brennan eyed his somber expression, the way his shoulders hunched as though there was a heavy weight on them…The darkness in his eyes. There was a pang in her heart, an irrational feeling that made her want to smooth away the lines on his forehead and try to make it all even a little better for him.

"You saved so many people, Booth," she reminded him softly, reaching out to place her hand on top of his free one. He flipped his hand over so that they were palm to palm, their fingers automatically intertwining. "Don't forget that."

Booth turned his head to look at her, taking in the reassuring smile she wore on her beautiful face, and he felt his own lips quirk into a thankful smile in return. His hand squeezed hers in silent gratitude.

"You want to get another drink?" he asked hopefully.

Brennan considered for a moment. She should be headed home, where the twins, Zan and Demetri were waiting for her. She'd spoken to them all constantly throughout the day, just like she always did, sneaking a phone call whenever Booth wasn't around. But she still missed them, missed seeing them in person and hugging them and seeing smiles on their angelic faces.

But still, there was something she needed to talk to Booth about. She knew he wasn't expecting an answer so soon, but she was ready to give him one.

"Sure," she agreed. "I need to discuss something with you, anyway."

Booth gestured for the bartender to give them another round of their drinks. "Oh? What about?" he asked, exhaling and straightening his spine as though to rid himself of the tension the day had brought him.

"About what you said to me," she replied. "Back at Santana's office. About you and me and how you want to give this a real shot."

He tensed up all over again, looking over at her. She had retracted her hand from his, and she stayed silent as Sid brought over their drinks. He watched as she wrapped her hands around her glass, staring into the liquid inside.

"Bones, you don't have to answer me now," he told her, voice low and urgent. He was pretty sure, if she had taken such a short time to think about this, that her answer was going to be no. He'd wanted more time to persuade her, with words and actions and gestures, that being with him wasn't a bad thing. "I only told you that two days ago…You don't have to rush this."

She nodded, giving him a small smile before dropping her gaze back to her drink. "I know," she replied softly. "And thank you for that. For not wanting to rush me. But I am highly intelligent, Booth. My mind works at a much faster speed than most people."

He couldn't help a chuckle despite how nervous he was - even when she was letting a guy down, she found time to remind everyone what a genius she was.

Brennan took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "There are…Some things that you don't know about me, Booth," she began. "A lot of things. Personal things. I'm not ready to divulge any of that to you just yet. It's not that I don't trust you - because I do. I just…It's not the right time."

He nodded. "That's reasonable," he agreed. He felt the same way about telling her about Parker, his little boy. He trusted her, he just wasn't ready to reveal all just yet.

She smiled at him, her expression brightening minimally as she realized he wasn't going to be difficult about it. "I have to tell you…I don't normally do serious relationships. I don't do sleepovers and weekends away and moving in. Not with my past relationships."

"What about your creepy ex?" he questioned. "The one you kicked out last week?"

"Peter?" He nodded. "He didn't live with me. He stayed over sometimes, but I was reluctant even then."

Booth drew his eyebrows together. There was something in her eyes, the way she spoke, that told him it wasn't just fear of commitment that was the issue here. "Why not?" he asked, trying not to be as pushy as possible.

Brennan smirked a little. "The answer to that question is something that I'm not ready to tell you yet," she said apologetically. "I will tell you - soon. Just not right now. Not here."

She bit her lip and dropped her gaze once more. "The thing is…This thing that I'm not telling you. It's big," she lifted her eyes to his, her baby blues a determined steely color. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…If I were to enter a relationship with you. A real one, where it's not a fling and we're in it for real…It has to be legit. I can't mess around. Not now. Not with…What I have going on in my life. I can't screw with that."

He held her gaze and gently took one of her hands from her glass. "I won't do that," he said seriously. "You believe me, Bones?"

She shrugged. "I like you, Booth. And I trust you. But I've trusted men before and they fell short," she sighed, dropping her head back and rolling it around from side to side as though to work out a kink. "Things were different then. It's different now, but I'm still not as good at reading people."

Brennan turned her head to gaze at him, a soft smile on her lips. "But I think you're different," she admitted, leaning closer to bump her shoulder with his. "Special," she added playfully, throwing his word back at him. A smile stole across his face, and he laughed.

"So what are you trying to say?" Booth asked, knowing he was prying but unable to help himself - he wanted to know.

Brennan took in a deep lungful of air before letting it out slowly. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…I'm willing to give this a try," she conceded.

She absolutely loved the pink flush that covered his cheeks, not of embarrassment but of happiness, and the way his entire face lit up the way Zan's did on Christmas morning. And she definitely loved the happy, charming, boyish grin that spread from one ear to another.

"Yeah?" he chuckled happily. "You are? Really?"

She nodded, laughing along with him - he was so contagious sometimes. "Yes," she confirmed. He was leaning in, but she stopped him, bringing their entwined hands up to rest against his heart. "But," she warned, a huge smile still present on her face. "You screw with me, Seeley Booth, and I'll kill you. I'll make death by a thousand cuts seem like a walk in the playground."

He winced at the very real threat despite the way she'd smiled when she'd issued it. "Park, Bones," he corrected her gently. "Walk in the park." She threw him a dirty look. "But I got you. I won't hurt you, Bones. I promise."

She nodded, allowing him to lean in and press a gentle kiss on her cheek. She sighed, looking at the clock above the bar. "I should be getting home," she said, lifting her glass to her lips and taking a sip of it.

"I'll drive you," he offered.

She chuckled. "You've had three drinks," she reminded him. "I'll take a cab, and you should, too." Booth laughed, figuring that she was probably right. "Yeah, I guess I should," he shook his head slightly. "Share?"

She gazed at him, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Sure," she allowed. "Let's share."

They both get up, Booth downing the rest of his drink while he grabs his coat. He threw some money on the table, Brennan doing the same for her own - she wasn't going to let some alpha male pay for her.

They walked towards the door, side by side, Booth's hand automatically making its way to his spot on her lower back. "Thanks for your help today, Bones," he murmured to her as they exited the bar.

She threw him an understanding smile. "Sure."

* * *

Okay, wow. I tried to do the whole Angela in the lab talking about Tessa thing, but that honestly didn't fit - why would they discuss an ex and why would Angela 'stalk' Tessa when she and Booth are no longer together? It didn't make sense so I left it out. Hope no one's too disappointed.

And, again, no real mention of Rose, Wyatt, Zan or Tri. Just a little scene at the beginning, and Zan and Tri were both asleep then. I'll bring in a little more of the 4 Brennan progenies at a later date. Not sure when, but I will. There will probably be more when Booth and Brennan reveal to each other that they have kids.

Still, I hope you enjoyed what I'd written/changed from the original script.

P.S. I know that the beginning is supposed to be daytime, but I changed it to at night because of the Brennan family scene I wanted to add.

Please leave a line, just to tell me if you enjoyed it or didn't. Thank you.

Juliet.


	3. The Boy in the Tree

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

* * *

_September 27, 2005_

The day had started out pretty mellow.

Brennan and Booth had spent the night last night drinking at Sid's. They were alone, without the squints who seemed to join them at every opportunity, which was a plus for Booth. After four beers and one of those fruity cocktails that Booth had refused to try since it was too 'girly', Booth had asked Brennan to spend the night with him.

Brennan would've said no, except Rose and Wyatt were on an outdoors trip with their class, and Zan and Demetri were with their father, Christian, to celebrate his birthday. Plus she was really drunk. And really horny. So she'd said yes.

Somewhere in the back of their minds, the decision they'd made to pretend like they were on vacation and spend the night at a honeymoon suite in a hotel had made sense. Alcohol…It does things to you.

So there they were, waking up in the morning with a hangover and wearing absolutely nothing under the sheets, smiling goofily at each other. There was a moment when Brennan had panicked about the 'honeymoon' part of their room, but it passed quickly and they'd even had time to squeeze in some early morning sex.

And then the phone had rang.

Now Booth and Brennan were sitting in Booth's SUV, sitting in front of the Jeffersonian and waiting for Brennan's assistant to meet them.

Booth chanced another glance at his wrist watch and sighed. "Bones, where's the kid?" he asked, irritable, as he slid on his sunglasses.

"He'll be here, Booth," she assured him, shooting him a curious look. "Why are you so angry?"

"I'm not angry," he said defensively.

"Yes, you are."

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm not angry, okay, Bones? I'm just…Annoyed," he allowed.

Brennan's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Why?" she asked innocently.

"I just…" he trailed off, sighing once more. "I hated that our morning was interrupted."

She nodded in understanding. "Yes, that was quite unpleasant," she agreed. "But our time together this morning wasn't completely ruined…Or wasn't it satisfactory to you?"

Booth shot her a look. "What? No…Bones, it was," he was quick to reassure. "I just wanted more time with you, that's all. A new case, you know, it means we're gonna be working hard the whole week. We can't be sneaking off to be a couple or anything."

She didn't reply so he just rubbed at his jaw. "It just sorta sucks," he finished lamely. He looked away, a little embarrassed by his admission and how irritable he was being when Brennan seemed completely unfazed, when he felt a small warm hand on his cheek. He turned to give her a questioning look.

Brennan simply smiled. "I agree," was all she said, and somehow, with those shiningly bright eyes, it was enough.

Booth gripped her hand that was on his cheek, bringing the back of her hand to his lips for a gossamer kiss before releasing it. He looked back towards the steps leading up to the Jeffersonian and let out a breath of impatience. "Finally," he muttered, seeing Zack walking down the steps towards them with a camera slung over his shoulder by a strap and carrying a forensics case in his hand.

Zack hopped into the backseat, relatively quiet, which bade well for Booth since he was usually irritated by most everything that came out of that kid's mouth. He stepped on the gas and started to drive. "We've got a dead body in a prep school out in the sticks," he told the two squints.

Brennan shot him a look. "Good morning to you, too," she said sarcastically.

Booth gave her an incredulous expression. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded. "We already said good morning to each other…Uh, before Zack came inside the car."

"I meant, would it kill you to say 'good morning' to Zack?" she clarified.

"I think it might," he snarked, ignoring the dirty glare she sent his way at his words.

Zack, oblivious to their banter, leaned forward in between Booth's and Brennan's seats. "Successful with women, right?" he said to Booth. "I mean, they like you?"

Booth ignored him. "Okay, look. It's a very prestigious prep school with a lot of rich kids," he continued on with the case details.

Brennan, in turn, ignored what he was saying. "I thought that it was good to start with a 'good morning'," she mused out loud.

"If a woman said to you 'take a hint'…What would that mean?" Zack asked Booth.

Booth, feeling a familiar pounding in his head, exhaled through gritted teeth. "Could we just…Concentrate on the job?" he snapped. Zack leaned back, settling into his seat once more. "Thank you. Now I know the sheriff out there. She's mostly okay but the school got a lot of pull with the county and she's probably trying to scrape the whole case off on us. Look, what I'm trying to say is…It's not just a crime scene but it's a political situation so when we get out there you follow my lead and you pay attention."

The car was silent for a second before Zack leaned forward again. "You call after every sexual encounter, right?" he asked Booth. "'cuz that's the good thing to do."

_Yep, definitely needed more time with Bones this morning_, he thought sardonically. _Either that or an hour's work-out at the gym_. "Look, this is a work mode," he said to the awkward assistant. "This is a work zone. We do not talk sex at work."

Brennan snorted slightly, remembering the pass he'd made at her just last night when she was in a 'work zone' and working in a 'work mode'. Booth shot her a chagrined look so she didn't comment on his statement despite the snarky comeback running through her head.

Instead, she continued on with his rude behavior. "First you tell me I'm too task oriented," she said, recalling the conversation that had occurred only days ago. "Then when I tell you to say 'good morning' to just one person, you say that I should concentrate on the job." She gave him a look like he had been lying to her. "You are a very confusing man, Booth."

"Okay, look," he shook his head. "We've got about a forty-five minute drive. Hmm, what do you say we pass it in quiet meditation?" he said in a way that said he was telling, not asking.

To his relief, both Brennan and her weirdo assistant kept their silence for the whole ride to the prep school. When he'd pulled up to the school and drove through the entrance, however, Zack broke the silence.

"Finally," Zack huffed. "Can we talk yet?"

"No."

"Why not?" Brennan inquired, a touch annoyed.

"_Because_," Booth said, equally irritated. I don't want to answer your freak assistant's questions about sex when he should've had that talk with his old man, and I don't want to listen to you telling me how I should be nice to him, either. "When we are at a crime scene, I do all the talking. My crime scene, my rules."

"What's with all the security?" Brennan asked, changing the topic to one that was case-related. He tended to be less stressed then, she'd noticed.

Booth, like she'd expected, relaxed a tiny bit. "I told you - this is not a regular school," he reminded her.

Brennan looked around, taking in everything she could see through the windows of the SUV. They were entering a school that looked much more impressive than a regular public school. A sign nearby read 'Hanover Preparatory Academy'.

Brennan was familiar with schools like these - she herself had been enrolled into a private school ever since she was a child, when her teachers noticed that her mind was far more advanced than any of her classmates and told her parents that she would benefit from being in a private school since the academia was much more suited for her, all the way until she was fifteen and was forced into foster care. Private school had been too expensive for the government to pay for her, so she'd been thrust into public school for the remainder of her high school years.

Now, years later, she had enrolled all four of her children in private schools. Rosalie and Wyatt both attended private schools catered for grades one to eight, and would be entering a college preparatory academy next year for the start of ninth grade. Zan, at age four, and Demetri, at age three, both attend half-day classes that was located in a private school catering to students from preschool to grade five.

Of course, the schools that she'd enrolled her children in weren't as high profile as Hanover seemed to be. There was security at the schools the twins, Zan and Tri attended by none as tight as these, it appeared.

Booth drove up to a security booth where a security guard came out and walked over to the driver's side to check his ID. "FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth," Booth introduced himself, flashing his FBI badge and ID for the guard to check. "And a forensic anthropologist," he gestured to Brennan with a nod of his head.

Brennan leaned forward, across Booth, to speak to the guard. "Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute," she declared.

"Plus one crack assistant," Zack added, leaning in between the front seats.

"I'll need to see some ID, please," the security guard said gruffly. Both Brennan and Zack handed their Jeffersonian IDs to the security guard, who took them to his booth to check out if they were legit.

"This doesn't remind me of where I went to school," Zack said.

"Yeah, you don't get much farther from the real world, that's for sure," Booth agreed - for once - with Zack. "The kids that go to school here is actually classified information."

The security guard returned to the SUV, handing Brennan's and Zack's IDs back to them through Booth's open window. "Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, I'll lead you to Mr. Sanders, our head of security," the guard told them.

"If you could just aim us in the right direction, we'll find it," Booth assured him, waving away his offer.

The guard shook his head apologetically. "All outsiders are to be escorted, sir."

Booth raised an eyebrow. "Huh," he muttered. He caught sight of a sign carved into stone nearby, reading the Latin words out loud. "Omnia Mea. Mecum Porto. What's that mean? Huh? Regular people stay out."

Brennan and Zack both look at him as though he was particularly slow as they recited, simultaneously, the real meaning of the Latin words, "I carry with me all my things."

Booth looked at them as though they were the strangest specimens on the planet, and they continued staring at him blankly. He rolled his eyes and looked to the front, starting the SUV and driving up to the crime scene, led by school security.

When they had reached the crime scene, and the security guard had left them to their devices, the three of them stepped out of the SUV. They were greeted immediately by a woman wearing a sheriff uniform and badge, followed by two men, one of whom wearing the same security uniform the guard at the security post had worn.

"Hey, Seeley," the sheriff greeted him with a smile. "How's it going?"

Brennan fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course. Was there a single, half-attractive woman in DC that Booth didn't know? Eyeing the sheriff discretely, Brennan decided that it didn't matter. She might not be able to read social cues, but the woman was obviously nowhere near the kind of women Booth would have chosen as a sexual partner. Look at Tessa, the blonde bombshell lawyer, and look at Brennan herself. She and Tessa were both very attractive, very successful career women - something that this sheriff clearly lacked on both counts. Harsh, but truthful.

She dismissed the sheriff quickly, even in her mind. There was nothing there for her to pay attention to and she had better things to focus smiled politely back at the sheriff. "Karen, congratulations on being elected full sheriff," he said amicably. "Very impressive."

The man in the security uniform stepped forward. "Agent Booth. I'm Leo Sanders, head of security at Hanover Prep," he introduced himself, then gestured to the man next to him. "This is Headmaster Peter Ronson."

"Where are the human remains?" Brennan asked briskly, quickly tiring of all the chatter.

Booth did the introductions for her. "Dr. Temperance Brennan and her assistant…Jack, uh, something," he told the three.

"Zack," Zack corrected. "Addy."

Brennan, still impatient, turned to the sheriff. _Karen_. "Can you show me to the remains?" she inquired.

The sheriff nodded, leading Brennan ahead of the others towards the crime scene. Booth and Zack walked a few steps behind the two women, walking with Ronson and Sanders, following them through a wooded area. The place was milling with people, students standing behind the yellow police tape, all gossiping over the shocking discovery of the body, cops walking about taking down statements and notes and guarding the crime scene.

The head of security, Sanders, spoke to Booth. "Even though the school was mostly empty during the two week break, it's impossible anyone…" he trailed off, finding it unnecessary to continue his sentence.

A few steps in front of them, Karen the sheriff was trying to strike up small talk with Brennan. "I don't know if you remember me, but we worked together on a case?" she was saying. "Bunch of bones in a culvert about a year ago?"

Brennan didn't even spare her a glance as she replied, "I remember the bones in the culvert."

Karen was so taken aback that she fell back while Brennan continued her fast pace. Booth shot Karen an apologetic look as he passed her, quickening his pace to catch up to Brennan. "You know, Bones," he whispered to her. "Being nice to the locals by remembering their names and such wouldn't hurt."

"What, did I hurt your girlfriend's feelings?" she couldn't help but retort.

His head reeled back slightly at her sharp remark. "Wait-what? Karen isn't…"

But the headmaster had walked up to the two of them and interrupted whatever he was about to say next. "Our two week term break ends tomorrow," he informed the duo. "I'd like to get this tidied up so the students never know what happened."

Brennan shot him a brief look conveying how disgusted she was by his comment, before she slid a neutral mask on her face. "Well, we don't know what happened yet. That's why I'm here," she said briskly. "Did anyone touch the body?"

"I doubt it," Karen the sheriff answered. "It's pretty grisly."

"Not big on small talk, is she?" Sanders said to Booth once Brennan had moved on ahead towards the crime scene.

"Dr. Brennan is very focused," Booth defended, though he understood how shocked they all had to be. Brennan tended to have that effect on people, especially when they'd just met her for the first time.

The six of them arrived at the crime scene, which consisted of a large tree with a wooden bench underneath it. Brennan, who was several paces in front of the others, looked around with a confused frown on her face. "Where are the remains?" she asked, a little angry. _Did they move the body? I thought I'd specifically told Booth to tell them not to…_

Booth, catching sight of something at the top of the tree, looked up. What he saw caused his jaw to drop. "Bones," he called out. When she looked back at him, he pointed up to the body hanging by a rope around its neck on a branch at the top of the tree.

"Phew," Booth said sympathetically. "Is that a student?"

Sanders cringed. "Ah, it's a secure campus. It's got to be a student, staff or faculty," he admitted reluctantly.

"Video first," Brennan instructed Zack. "I don't want your flash disturbing the crows."

"Yeah, that would be a shame," Sanders retorted sarcastically. "Disturb the human flesh-eating birds."

Booth, recognizing that the headmaster and the security guard were only going to get in the way of Brennan working, turned to them. "You want to increase the perimeter here? Gentlemen, give my forensic anthropologist some room," he requested firmly, politely.

Brennan quirked an eyebrow at him. "_Your_ forensic anthropologist?" she scoffed. _We're going to have a talk about Neanderthal views on males owning females and regarding them as properties later. A very _long_ talk_.

"Agent Booth," Karen called out. "If you decide that this becomes a suicide, it becomes my problem, correct?"

Brennan interjected before Booth could answer her. "Actually, the person who decides if this is a suicide is me," she replied in her usual no-nonsense tone.

Karen, realizing that she wasn't going to get any headway with Brennan, turned to leave Brennan alone. "Let's give the bone lady some room," she said to her companions, the three of them walking some distance away.

"Ah, you know, I'm glad we had that little chat about being nice to the locals," Booth joked.

"I'm sorry, I'll buy her flowers later," Brennan retorted. "Or is that your job?"

He gave her an exasperated look. "Bones, Karen and I were never together."

"Yes, I call all the people I worked with by their first names and greet them with flirty smiles, Booth," Brennan replied sarcastically. "It's just normal that way."

"Why would it matter if Booth and the female sheriff were romantically involved?" Zack asked from his place a few feet away from them.

Brennan blinked, as if realizing they weren't alone. "It doesn't," she replied automatically. "I just…I don't like Sheriffs. They are elected into office, which means their goal is being re-elected, not finding the truth."

"I got video, Dr. Brennan," Zack snapped back into work mode.

"Go to stills," she instructed him next.

Headmaster Ronson, who had been standing in a group with Sanders and Karen, walked back over to Booth. "Can we just get him down from there?" he asked in an agitated tone.

"There's a lot of work to do before we get to that," Brennan responded, unapologetic.

Booth shot the headmaster a look. "You want to step back, please, sir?"

Headmaster Ronson didn't take too kindly to Booth's tone. "I'm the headmaster here," he reminded Booth rudely.

"And this is a crime scene," Booth snapped back angrily. "Step back," he reiterated.

Brennan, up front, looked up at the body hanging from the tree. Birds were still pecking at the badly decomposed flesh of the victim's face and the skull that was showing through. One of the crows flew away, scared, when Zack started snapping pictures.

Without warning, the head snapped off and fell towards the ground. Brennan darted forward and caught it with her fast reflexes. "We are going to need an evidence bag," she called out.

Booth, watching the body above, saw that it was about to slip to the ground since there was no neck for the rope to hold on to. "Heads up!" he called to Brennan, just as the rest of the body fell to the ground a few inches from where Brennan stood.

"I'm going to need a bigger bag," Brennan shouted, unaware of the dark humor of her statement.

BBBBBBB

They were sitting in Booth's SUV, Booth driving them to Nestor Olivos' parents' home to break to them the horrible news of their son's death. Both of them were quiet until Booth said, "Thank you."

Brennan shot him a questioning look. "For what?"

"For going with my instincts in there," he elaborated.

Brennan scoffed a little. "I did not back up your instincts," she said defensively. "I bought time to find the facts I need to tell me what happened to Nestor Olivos." She paused, eyeing him curiously. "What's with you and the private school?"

He shook his head slightly. "I thought we understood each other?"

"Oh, it's that bad?" she wasn't giving up.

Booth sighed. "I don't…I don't like people who think they're better than other people," he finally conceded.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Some people _are_ better than other people," she replied.

Booth shot her a look. "Ugh. You know what you said right there…That it so un-American," he said, annoyed. "All men are created equal. Either you believe that or you don't."

She didn't. How could she when it was obviously untrue? She was smarter than, say, a simple kindergarten teacher could ever be. Rosalie and Wyatt, with their advanced education, were better than students attending public school and barely scraping by with a C. It was just a fact.

"Some people are smarter than others. There's no use being offended by the fact," she told him rationally. "What are we going to tell Nestor's parents?"

"We tell them that their son was found dead," Booth replied. "We're looking into it. Sorry for your loss…" He paused and looked over at her. "And we are."

"What?"

"Sorry for their loss," he clarified. "It's sad. Try to remember that."

Brennan shot him an irritated look. "Ugh. I'm not a sociopath," she defended herself.

Booth was still reeling with anger from having to deal with Headmaster Ronson and Sanders at the school and the less than productive meeting he'd had with his boss, and the argument he was having with Brennan wasn't really doing great for him, either. So, without thinking, he snarked, "You're bad with people, okay? No use being offended by the fact."

At the hurt, guarded look in Brennan's eyes following his remark, Booth dropped his head. "Look, I'm sorry, Bones," he said, his tone softening. "I didn't mean that."

"No, you clearly did," she said, pulling her hand away when he reached to take it.

He shook his head. "I don't," he insisted. "I just…I'm having a bad day."

She gazed at him for the longest time, and he alternated between watching the road in front of him and shooting her looks to see if she'd forgive him. Finally, she sighed and nodded once. "Fine," she conceded. "We all have bad days."

He smiled, still apologetic. "Yeah…I'm really sorry, Bones."

"You owe me dinner."

"Home-cooked," he promised. "How's pasta?" She smiled slightly in response, the sparkle returning to her eyes, and he knew he was forgiven.

BBBBBBB

"Where are we going?" Brennan asked, looking to Booth questioningly.

"Lunch," he replied, pulling up to Wong Foo's, the place they'd gone to several times already.

Brennan gave Booth a disapproving look. "We've got work to do, Booth," she reprimanded softly.

"Hey, I'm not asking for a quickie in the backseat," Booth defended, then threw her a wolfish grin. "Though I'm up for that if you are…" Brennan tried to scowl in displeasure as she smacked him on the arm, but his smile was contagious and she found herself chuckling along with him. "I just figured we need to replenish ourselves. Keep up our energy."

She nodded, sighing, as she stepped out of the car and walked with him into the restaurant. A man she had never seen before approached them from behind the bar the moment he saw Booth. He gestured and led them towards a table. "Hey, I'll say this…She's tall," the unknown man said to Booth.

"Dr. Temperance Brennan, meet Sid," Booth introduced. "The owner."

Sid brightened up slightly in recognition of the name. "Hey! The bone lady," he correctly assumed.

Brennan eyed him in confusion. "The sign says 'Wong Foo's," she said, the implication clear - Sid looked nothing like a man of Asian descent.

"Family name changed at Ellis Island," Sid said by way of explanation. "I'll get your meal."

Brennan frowned. "But we didn't order," she muttered out loud.

Booth waved her comment aside. "No, Sid knows what most people want better than they do," he assured her. "We're good."

He looked around, scanning the room for anyone he recognized, from work or otherwise. Not even Sid, who was in the kitchen most probably, was around. Recognizing his chance, Booth leaned in towards Brennan, reaching one hand to cup her face, fingers tangling in her hair. _God, I love how soft her hair is_, he mused to himself.

"Booth, what are you doing?" Brennan asked in a low voice.

"I haven't kissed you since before breakfast," he complained softly. "Let me kiss you?"

Brennan leaned into his touch even as she protested. "Someone might see us, Booth," but her words were half-hearted, her eyes flickering to his lips ever few seconds.

"There's no one here we know," he argued, still speaking softly. "Please, Bones…?"

She didn't give a verbal reply, but she was leaning in closer to him, her eyes drooping slightly. His lips touched hers for the briefest moments, brushing a light butterfly kiss across her mouth, before he snatched her lower lip into his mouth, sucking on it. He groaned at the taste of her. "How do you always taste so good?" he wondered out loud, bringing his mouth back to hers for a proper kiss. Brennan's hand slid up his chest and all the way to the back of his head, gripping at his short hair, responding eagerly to him.

Someone placed something on their table, loud enough to startle them out of their passionate embrace. They sprung apart, looking at their intruder with expressions rivaling that of children who had been caught doing something they shouldn't.

Jon, the bartender that Sid had trusted to keep the place in check for the past few weeks while he'd been on vacation, chuckled. He was familiar with Booth, having worked at Wong Foo's for years, and he'd come to recognize the beautiful woman Booth had brought in these past few weeks as well. He had no idea they were seeing each other, and he knew they were being discreet about it as well seeing as how they were never like this around their friends.

"Your drinks," he nodded at the two glasses he'd thunked on the table deliberately. "Not that I'm not enjoying the free show or anything, but I think your geek squad is arriving." he nodded at the door.

Booth and Brennan looked towards the door to see Zack, Hodgins and Angela walking into the restaurant. Brennan smiled embarrassedly while Booth chuckled and thumped Jon on the back. "Thanks, man," he said gratefully.

Jon waved his gratitude aside. "Ah, don't mention it. Food will be out in a few," he promised, walking off.

Booth wiped at his lips to remove any evidence of Brennan's lip gloss, and Brennan did the same, taking a sip of her water in an attempt to hide her newly-kissed lips. Angela was like a hound when it came to things like these and Brennan just wasn't sure she was ready to let her friend in on her relationship with Booth, not when it was so new to her.

The three squints walked right up to Booth's and Brennan's table. Zack threw the files he'd been holding onto the table, some of the contents spilling out. Angela slid into the booth right next to Booth, Hodgins sitting next to her. Brennan scooted closer to Booth so that Zack would have space to sit next to her.

"Nestor's bones are completely normal," Zack informed his mentor. "Not brittle in any way."

Booth scowled in displeasure at the three intruders. "You know, this is kinda my little getaway place. You know?" he snapped.

They ignored him, Angela speaking up next. "It proves the rope left in the branch where Nestor was hanging are too deep for his weight," she added.

"Please, everyone. You know, come on, just sit down," Booth continued sarcastically.

"Eggs, larva, waste…All indicate that the insects which fed on the body are all indigenous to the tree in which he was found. It means he died there approximately ten to fourteen days ago," Hodgins added his input from the findings he had acquired.

Booth, who in his mind was the only 'normal' one at the table, tried his hardest not to look at the grisly pictures the squints had brought with them to lunch. _How do they even keep an appetite after seeing all this_, he had to wonder. He passed a crime scene photo over to Brennan without looking at it, keeping his gaze above the table littering with disgusting pictures.

Hodgins, who was looking through the menu, found something on it that sounded appetizing to him. "I'll have the seven organ soup," he yelled to Sid who was back behind the bar.

"You don't order," Brennan corrected. "The guy just brings it."

Zack continued on about the case, "He didn't void. Usually, somebody hangs themselves, the flood gates open, bodily fluids everywhere…"

Booth scrunched his face up at that, disgusted.

"There was plenty of the affluent in his clothes, but they are all post decomposition," Hodgins reported. "As the body swells, it bursts from internal gases." Not noticing, or maybe simply not caring, the way Booth looked as though he might either throw up on Hodgins or strangle him, he asked, "How does the guy know what you want?"

Brennan shrugged. "The guy has a knack," she explained, remembering what Booth had told her earlier.

"The guy's name is Sid," Booth interjected.

Again, Zack was fully focused on the case. "The birds ate his eyes, ears…They worked their way into the skull," he said.

"Birds pecking at the soft tissue of the throat…Could that crack the hyoid?" he questioned.

Brennan shook her head. "No, it's a stress fracture caused by the rope against his throat _not_ post mortem," she argued.

Angela gave the others at the table a knowing look. "You put a highly sensitive adolescent in a high pressure prep school, add social alienation, cultural differences, pressure from high achieving parents…Could be suicide," she concluded.

Booth, however, was stubbornly refusing to accept that. "It's not suicide," he insisted.

Brennan rolled her eyes at his quick reply. "Because Booth thinks that prep schools turn out entitled criminals," she revealed to the others.

Hodgins raised an eyebrow. "We all went to private schools and none of us are criminals," he defended.

"In fact we fight criminals," Zack added helpfully. "We're crime fighters."

"No you're not," Booth glowered at him. "You're…" Brennan placed a hand on his thigh, squeezing gently, reminding him to be nicer to Zack. Abandoning what he had been about to say - and more than just a little distracted by Brennan's fingers lightly trailing up and down his inner thigh - he said, "I'm just saying it's not a suicide."

"I'm a big believer in instinct," Angela offered.

Booth nodded slightly. "Finally. A squint with an open mind," he said thankfully.

Angela gave him a wide, leery grin. "You have no _idea_ how open minded I can be," she flirted openly.

Sid approached the table, carrying some a tray of food for the table, his eyes bulging as he caught sight of all the pictures on the table. "What's with these pictures?" he demanded, incensed. "This is a restaurant. People come here to eat. What's the matter with you people?" He gathered up the macabre photos. "Booth! What the hell did you bring into my place!"

Booth widened his eyes. "I had nothing to do with it," he said honestly. If it had been up to him, it would only be him and Brennan, no interruptions whatsoever. _What's a guy to do to get some alone time with his gorgeous partner around here_? He groused internally.

Brennan, who had ignored Booth's and Sid's interactions, and had gotten started on her food, moaned appreciatively. "This is exactly what I want," she said to Booth. "This is amazing. The guy definitely has a knack."

Hodgins, noting that he'd gotten a bowl of the seven organ soup he'd ordered earlier, grinned. "Ooh, so you do take orders?"

"Of course we do," Sid said, irritated. "But it's always better when you leave it to me." He turned to his old friend and gave him a meaningful look. "Booth."

Booth nodded. "Okay, I will take care of it," he said, keeping quiet until Sid was out of earshot. "You're saying that the boy died like ten to fourteen days ago?"

"Hey, bugs buzz, but they do not lie," Hodgins shrugged.

Brennan turned her head to look at Booth. "Hodgins is very good at using insects to ascertain time of death," she clarified.

"How do you explain an email that was sent 7 days ago from Nova Scotia? Hmm?" he demanded, smug that there was something clearly not right with the picture. "See, look at that," he pointed to the papers Headmaster Ronson and Sanders had provided him with earlier. "It stinks. Go ahead, smell it. You know you wanna smell it. It stinks."

Angela, who was amusedly watching Hodgins. "Don't," she said. "Don't smell that."

He shook his head, attempting to feed Angela some of his soup. "No, no, you've got to taste it," he urged.

Angela crinkled her nose. "I can smell it from here," she complained.

"Angela, it's so good," Hodgins moaned as he took another sip of his soup.

Angela scrunched her nose at him. "That's really gross," she said in reference to the smell of the soup and how it looked.

Booth simply stared at the three squints that had intruded on his lunch with Brennan, uninvited, a scowl on his face. He felt a small hand on his thigh once more and looked over to Brennan who was wearing a small smile on her lips. Her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes, promised him that they would have time alone together later.

He sighed, nodding once in defeat and acceptance, before digging into his own meal. Annoying squints will be annoying, he supposed.

BBBBBBB

Brennan wore a somber expression on her face as she looked through pictures of the victim's body on her computer screen. She was missing something, according to Booth, and she didn't like that. Especially if it meant that the truth was kept hidden.

She was interrupted when Dr. Goodman knocked on her door, entering her office with Ambassador Olivos. Brennan turned off the computer screen, not wanting the Ambassador to catch sight of the mangled remains of her son. If it had been one of her children…Brennan suppressed a shiver just at the mere thought. She forced it into the back of her mind, standing up and turning to her two visitors.

"Dr. Brennan," Dr. Goodman said. "Can you spare a moment for the Venezuelan Ambassador?"

Brennan nodded. Ambassador Olivos gave him a small grateful smile. "Thank you," she murmured.

Dr. Goodman nodded, giving the two women a look, before leaving.

Brennan stepped forward and shook Ambassador Olivos' hand. "Is there something I can do for you?" she inquired, wondering why she was here talking to her instead of Booth. After all, he was the investigating officer. Although she was his partner, Ambassador Olivos should know that she'd have to speak to Booth and not to her if she remembered something pertaining to the case.

"I understand that you are very good at your job, Dr. Brennan," the Ambassador said, her voice raw with emotion from very recently finding out about the loss of her son. "Are you a mother, as well?"

Brennan shot her a surprised look, gazing at her contemplatively for a few moments before nodding her head slowly. "Yes. I am a mother," she replied. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't mention that to anyone…My job is very dangerous at times and I want the safety of my kids not to be compromised."

Ambassador Olivos nodded, an understanding smile on her face. "I understand that, Dr. Brennan," she assured her. She pulled out a picture of her son, Nestor, and handed it to Brennan.

Brennan looked at it, smiling slightly as she saw the boy in his altar boy robe, smiling happily at the camera. "He was a handsome boy, Ambassador," she offered the grieving woman.

Ambassador Olivos bowed her head slightly. "Thank you," her voice cracked as she spoke. She handed Brennan a video tape. "Please. Watch this."

Brennan took the tape and walked over to the TV she had in her office, sliding the tape into the video player. "I'm sure you know, Dr. Brennan, that all a mother wants to know is that she has raised her child well," Ambassador Olivos said as she watched Brennan. "That he will grow up to be a good man. I will never see this. I will never know."

Brennan shot her a discrete look, wondering how she could say all of that with a mostly steady voice. She knew that if she'd lost one of hers…Then again, Ambassador Olivos was showing great strength in the face of adversity. Brennan knew that she loved Nestor. It was obvious from the pain in her eyes.

She turned away and grabbed the remote, pressing 'play'. The video started, a little boy sharing the same facial markers as Nestor coming on screen. It was obviously Nestor when he was a little child. There was a doctor in the video, and Ambassador Olivos. "The day Nestor received his implant," Ambassador Olivos explained to Brennan.

Brennan nodded, understanding the meaning of the video. "The first day that he could hear," she elaborated.

Ambassador Olivos smiled slightly, her gaze riveted to the screen. "And the first thing he heard was my voice," she revealed tearfully.

"His mother's voice."

"I told him I loved him."

Brennan angled the remote towards the TV and pressed the 'stop' button, turning off the video. "The child who has lived through this miracle would never take this own life," Ambassador Olivos said fiercely. "You're a scientist. You need more than a mother's reassurance. Fine. My husband and I have many enemies. That is why I sent Nestor to Hanover. They promised us that he would be safe."

Ambassador Olivos held Brennan's gaze, her eyes pleading for Brennan to understand where she was coming from. "What if they failed? They would not want to admit it. They would do anything they could to bias you towards suicide," she pointed out.

Brennan walked over to the grieving mother and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Ambassador Olivos…I may be a scientist, but I am a mother first…I promise you I will find out the truth," she promised.

Ambassador Olivos managed a small smile at that. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

BBBBBBB

Booth had picked her up, and now they were in Hanover Prep, making their way towards Nestor's dorm room. "I want to take another look at Nestor's room," Booth insisted.

"What exactly do you hope to find?" Brennan inquired, not rudely, just curiously.

Booth was about to answer when he caught sight of a man descending the stairs from the direction of Nestor's room. If that wasn't enough of a reason to be suspicious, the man turned on his heel and fled up the stairs the moment he saw Booth.

Booth cursed under his breath. "Stay here," he said firmly to Brennan.

Brennan scoffed. "Yeah, right. That's gonna happen," she said sarcastically, pushing past him to run up the stairs, chasing after the man. Booth chased after her, wondering why it was he had convinced his superior that bringing her out into the field was a good idea. He was shocked when Brennan shut the door to Nestor's room as soon as she had entered after the guy. He pumped his legs faster to get to her.

Brennan, in the mean time, was facing the strange man in Nestor's room, reacting on instinct and kicking him in the stomach as he came at her, causing him to fall back against the door. The door was kicked open, Booth on the other side, and the man was pushed forward.

As he stumbled forward, Brennan stuck out her leg, tripping him. The man jumped scrambled to his feet immediately after hitting the floor, and Booth ran at him. The man took a swing at Booth, who ducked reflexively. Booth punched the man in the face, three times successively. His punches were hard enough that the man fell to the floor, completely unconscious.

Booth shook out the slight pain in his hand, turning to face Brennan. "You alright?" he asked, concerned.

She raised an eyebrow, nodding at his injured hand. "Are you?" she shot back.

Booth ignored her question, bending down to search the man for a wallet. He found it in the man's back pocket, throwing it to Brennan. "Check his ID," he instructed.

"His name's Tovar Comara," she informed him, her eyebrows shooting up at the information on his ID. "He's security at the Venezuelan embassy."

Booth started. "If he's security, why'd he run?" he asked the question running through both their minds.

It was only when Tovar regained consciousness and was brought to the Ambassador's office did they understand the story.

"What we would like to know is what Senor Comara was doing in Nestor's room," Brennan stated, looking from the Ambassador sitting behind her desk and Tovar sitting across from the Ambassador, an impressive shiner on his eye from Booth's punches earlier.

"I asked Senor Comara to go to Nestor's room," Ambassador Olivos admitted. "To prove a point - that suicide was not the only possibility."

"Prove that an outsider can get to your son," Booth elaborated, understanding the Ambassador's intention.

The Ambassador nodded. "The school informed me that Nestor's death was most certainly a suicide," she divulged. "That anything else was impossible."

"We proved them correct," Comara added dejectedly. "I failed to escape without being detected."

Ambassador Olivos looked so heartbroken by that that Brennan had to interject. "The school lied to you, Ambassador," she refuted.

"Dr. Brennan already declared your son's death a homicide," Booth added for her.

Ambassador Olivos nodded once more. "I apologize," she said, grief making her tone seem curt. "I was misinformed."

"I won't be pressing any charges," Booth assured her."

"Thank you," the Ambassador was called away when a group of security guards walked in. "Please excuse me."

Brennan watched as the Ambassador left before turning to Tovar. "Do you think Nestor was killed by outsiders?" she asked.

Booth did a double take as he watched her. _Did she just do that blinking innocently, Bambi eyes thing on him_?

Tovar Comara shook his head. "Not Venezuelan insurgents - they would make a statement," he disputed. "Not fake a suicide. This hanging…" he sniffed deliberately. "Wila mala."

"Hmm," Brennan hummed, nodding to Tovar as she and Booth stood up, walking away from the office.

Booth couldn't help his jealous comment as they left, "Sure, you know, someone says, you know, 'it smells' in a Spanish accent and all of a sudden you're like…Hmm. Interesting," he said sarcastically.

Brennan enjoyed a small grin of satisfaction to herself. Booth noticed it and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing," she said lightly. At his incredulous look, she lowered her voice and said, "It's just…It's nice to know I'm not the only one who gets jealous every once in a while."

Booth rolled his eyes, but the jealousy was fading and in its place was a warm, goofy feeling. He threw her a boyish grin. "You get jealous, huh?" he teased.

Brennan swatted his arm. "Shut up, Booth," she muttered, a faint pink blush rising to her cheeks. Booth chuckled, the hand lingering on the small of her back the only sign of affection he was allowed to give her while they were in public. _I'm gonna sneak in a real kiss on the way back_, he promised himself.

BBBBBBB

They were back at Hanover yet again, in Headmaster Ronson's office this time around. Booth and Brennan were standing as they watched Ronson and Sanders seeing the sex tape involving Nestor for the first time.

"We've seen this kind of thing before," Sanders said, looking away from the TV screen, not a hint of surprise in his tone.

"Kids recording themselves having sex?" Brennan asked incredulously.

Headmaster Ronson shrugged. "Young people are more jaded that they used to be," he, too, didn't seem all that shocked.

Brennan made a mental note to have another talk with Rosalie and Wyatt - they were a few years younger than Nestor and the girl in the video, but they were still reaching adolescence. Thoughts pertaining to sexual activities had to be entering their minds more and more these days, even if it was as innocent as kissing. She wanted them to be able to make the right decisions when they time came, and not be afraid to approach her if they needed.

"Sometimes they swap these tapes," Headmaster Ronson continued, jolting Brennan out of her thoughts.

"I'm surprised to see Nestor," Sanders admitted quietly.

Booth picked up on what he didn't say. "But not so surprised to see the girl?" he questioned knowingly.

Ronson glared in Booth's direction. "How is that relevant?" he demanded.

Brennan, irritated with his Holier-than-thou attitude, glowered right back at him. "You know what's a better question?" she snapped. "What makes you think you get to decide what's relevant? You're basically a principal of a high school."

Booth forced himself not to grin at Brennan's words. Sometimes, just on the rare occasion, her tendency to be brutally blunt worked in his favor. "We need to see all the sex tapes that you've confiscated," he informed Ronson and Sanders.

"Absolutely not," Ronson replied immediately.

Booth shrugged. "Well, I will just get a warrant, and in the application for a warrant, I'll include your admission that you allow your students to swap homemade sex tapes," he warned in a deceptively amicable tone.

Sanders stepped in to diffuse the situation, "The headmaster is not refusing to provide you with the tapes."

Brennan raised an eyebrow. "'Absolutely not' sounds like a refusal," she pointed out.

"When we confiscate the tapes, we immediately turn them over to local law enforcement," Sanders explained.

Booth's eyebrows shot up at this interesting little bit of information. "Sheriff Roach knew about this?" he questioned.

Brennan rolled her eyes discretely. _Oh, sure. _Now_ it's 'Sheriff Roach'_, she thought sarcastically. Sanders nodded. "No need to issue a warrant - we are cooperating completely," he said smugly.

"Was the girl also a student here?" Brennan questioned, ignoring Sanders.

Headmaster Ronson sat up straighter, wanting to gain the upper hand in this interrogation and smug that he had a way to do so. "Given your hostility, I think it's time we bring in a lawyer to advise us," he said dismissively.

Booth clenched his fists at the Ronson's audacity. "_Or_, you take _my_ advise," he snarked. "If you don't answer my questions, I'll take you down to FBI headquarters in handcuffs."

Brennan, as his partner, backed him up. She stared at Ronson, completely self-assured, and said, "He'll do it. He doesn't like you." Booth shook his head no, in agreement with Brennan's statement.

Ronson sighed, leaning back against his seat. "Fine, Agent Booth," he groused, defeated. "Her name is Camden Destry."

BBBBBBB

Booth and Brennan had driven back to DC to the Hoover building, where Booth had gotten Charlie to bring Camden Destry and her mother in for an interrogation, and had driven all the way back to Maryland to retrieve the sex tapes from Sheriff Roach.

"So, let me get this right," Brennan said as they leaned against Booth's SUV, waiting for Sheriff Roach to arrive. "_I'm_ the tactless and insensitive one?" she asked, referencing to the interrogation with Camden, where Booth had shown the sex tape to Camden and her mother and angrily demanded for answers from the distraught teenager.

"Okay, look," Booth started. "The girl lied to a federal agent during the investigation of the death of a boy that she said she loves. You know what? These kids, they all lie. That school teaches them that they're special, that they're above the rest of us. Well, they're not."

Brennan stared at him. "You're the least objective person I have ever met," she stated wryly.

"Thank you."

"It's not a compliment," she shot at him. "You know, I don't know what horrible childhood trauma you had involving private schools, but I went to one up until my parents disappeared…And, just to be clear, I do not go around looking at random people all day making judgments about how much better I am than them. Okay? I mean, yes, I do think that some people are smarter than others, but even you have to admit to that. You, for example, do not share my expertise in anthropology. Or Hodgins' expertise in entomology. We do not share Angela's expertise in art."

She looked over at him, her eyes growing soft, "And none of us share your expertise in reading people they way you do…You're smarter than me at that. Smarter than us. So, yeah, that school…It teaches those kids things that are more advanced than what public school students are taught. I don't understand why you're so defensive about that - you went to public school, sure, but you ended up at a very good place, with a very important job."

He gave her a small smile, thanking her without words for the compliment that was somewhere in her rant, before shaking his head. "Aw, c'mon, Bones…You know something is wrong here. Alright? The school, the tapes, now Sheriff Roach," he ticked off all the indicators that something wasn't right with the case.

"All this mess you're uncovering - it smells, yes," she admitted. "But it doesn't add up to murder…Not logically."

"Maybe if you looked for more than the facts, you would be able to see the bigger pic-"

Brennan cut him off, "Maybe if you opened your mind, we could find out the actual truth."

They both turned around at the sound of a car approaching, seeing the Sheriff pulling up in her squad car. They waited for Sheriff Roach to exit her car, a box of tapes in her hands.

"Brought you the tapes," she said, walking over to Booth and Brennan.

"How many?" Brennan questioned immediately.

The Sheriff looked taken aback by the question. "All of them," she handed the box over to Brennan. "What, do you think I'm withholding evidence?"

Instead of the amiable air that Booth had presented her earlier in the week, he seemed to now share Brennan's dislike for the sheriff. "You know, I'm thinking Hanover Prep gets you elected and you look the other way when you see these tapes," he guessed, turning away from the sheriff to his side of the SUV. Brennan, already having rounded the SUV to her side, slid inside, taking the box of tapes with her.

Sheriff Karen Roach was shocked at Booth's less than friendly tone, but she didn't defend herself against Booth's accusation, not when they both knew he was right. "Kids having sex," she called to Booth as he made to get in his car. "There's no law against that."

"Let's hope that's the worse thing that we find," Booth sniped, yanking open the door to the driver's side and sliding in.

BBBBBBB

The case was finally solved, Camden Destry and Tucker Pattison rightfully arrested. Booth and Brennan had invited Ambassador Olivos to Brennan's office, where she now sat opposite Brennan at her desk, listening to Booth as he explained.

"The headmaster and head of security will both loose their jobs over what happened to Nestor," he said, offering what little comfort he could to Ambassador Olivos, knowing that nothing that said and done would bring her son back but that she could at least get slight satisfaction from justice being served. "The Sheriff will resign. The two kids who killed your son is in custody."

The Ambassador nodded, her tearful gaze looking at both Booth and Brennan. "Thank you," she whispered.

"We're very sorry…for your loss," Booth muttered, wincing internally at the cliché line.

The Ambassador didn't seem to mind, just nodded once more as they all stood. Ambassador Olivos gave the two of them another forced smile before turning to leave.

Brennan, catching sight of the picture that Ambassador Olivos had given her earlier of Nestor in his altar boy robe, called out for her to stop. "Ambassador Olivos, you told me that all a mother wants is to know that she's raised her child well. That your biggest regret is that you will never know if Nestor would have grown up to be a good man…But he was a good man," he handed the picture back to Ambassador Olivos, returning it to the rightful owner, and serving as a silent reminder of their talk a few days ago, to convey that she understood Ambassador Olivos' pain. "He died because he was trying to do the right thing."

Ambassador Olivos took the picture from her, accepting her words, and turned to leave.

Booth, having watched the scene in silence, walked up to Brennan as they both watched Ambassador Olivos' departure. "Very impressive, Temperance," Booth spoke from right behind her, his voice low and approving. "You got that one right." Brennan tilted her head to the side in acknowledgement of his praise and a small smile graced her lips.

In celebration of closing their case, Booth took her to Wong Foo's once more. Of course, his plan to have a private meal with Brennan was disrupted once again when Booth and Brennan walked in to find that the rest of the squint squad was already there.

_I need to find another place to bring Bones to when we want some time alone_, he grudgingly admitted. It wasn't an easy admission, especially considering he would never give up Wong Foo's - the place was a hidden gem he'd been lucky enough to find.

Hodgins sat at the bar, nursing a bowl of food Sid had given him. Angela was sitting with Zack at the same booth they'd all sat at a few days ago, talking about God only knows what. Booth was happy enough not knowing what went on in their weird little conversations.

Booth stared, horrified, at the scene before him. "Oh, no, this isn't going to work…I mean, this is my place," he complained to Brennan.

She shot him a look, following him to the bar. "You brought me here," she reminded him.

"Well, that's different," he dismissed. "I actually _like_ your company." She couldn't help but smile at his words, even if he'd said it in an annoyed tone. "Sid?" Booth questioned as they reached the bar.

Sid, who had been wiping down the bar, gave him an apologetic look. "As long as they keep it down on the subject of rotten corpses and bodily fluids, I have no beef at all," he shrugged.

Hodgins, sitting a few stools away from Booth and Brennan, reeled his head back as he stared in amazement at his food. "Okay, this is amazing," he turned to Booth, a huge grin on his face. "I had heartburn. I asked Sid to bring me something and now the heartburn is gone. I mean, it's _gone_. Man, I _love_ this place!"

"Okay, fine, new rules," Booth said, irritated at having to hear this at all. "This counter is mine. That booth is yours. Everything else around here, alright, mine." He gestured wildly at the area surrounding the booth. "Alright? Mine. M-I-N-E, mine."

Brennan rolled her eyes from her spot next to Booth as Hodgins got up from his bar stool, bowl of food in his hand. He continued to eat as he made to join Angela and Zack at their table. "Does this new rule include me?" she asked, genuinely curious as to whether or not she should follow Hodgins.

Booth smirked, shaking his head at her. "Naw, it's alright, Bones, you can stay," he patted her hand gently. "But not talking about anthropological stuff or grisly murder stuff. No talk about work - at all."

A moment passed before Brennan spoke again. "I've been thinking about your whole 'something stinks' aptitude," she confessed. "I think you have a subconscious knack for reading body language…stress in the voice, other subtle but indiscernible indicators. It's not mysterious but it is impressive, and in the future, I will try to record it in an appropriate degree of objective worth."

He smiled at her. "Thank you, Temperance. Appreciate that," and he did, too. Because that was probably the highest praise he was going to get regarding his gut instincts, coming from her. "So, uh, what part of 'no talk about work' did you not understand? What? Do you want me to say it in Latin?"

"Absit invidia," she apologized. "I have something for you." She took something out from her blazer pocket and slid it across the bar towards him. Booth picked it up, looking at the official Jeffersonian ID card, with his picture and information as FBI liaison on it.

He grinned at her. "Nice," he nodded. "If your geek friends aren't here right now, I'd kiss you."

She smiled, a little smug that she'd gotten him something he liked, turning to face her front. "I'll just have to hold you to your word, then," she teased coyly.

Booth chuckled, shaking his head. _Never does what you think she will_, he thought fondly.

* * *

The end of episode three…No hot and heavy scene, no Parker, no Brennan family unit…Are you disappointed? I'm sorry. I'll do my best next time. I just thought there should be a little more development in their relationship first before I add in family drama into it.

Please leave me a line or two to tell me how you've enjoyed it. Also, please forgive any inconsistencies that I may have inadvertently written in. I did my best.

Juliet.


	4. The Man in the Bear

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

* * *

_November 1, 2005_

It had been nearly two months since the beginning of Booth and Brennan's partnership - and almost two months since they'd decided to start a mutually exclusive, clandestine, relationship with one another.

The morning of the first of November, had found Booth and Brennan in a cabin in the Virginian woods, with a mountain view that Brennan loved. The cabin belonged to Brennan's publisher, who had advised Brennan to use it for the weekend. Brennan had agreed to it since the twins were busy this weekend (Rosalie was having a sleepover at her friend, Suzie's, house and Wyatt was going on a field trip with his class) and Zan and Demetri were with Christian, their father, whose parents were visiting from Greece with the sole purpose to spend some time with their son and grandchildren.

She had, of course, invited Booth with her. He'd agreed immediately, and had been so into it that he'd convinced her to take Monday off. She hadn't been so eager about it but he'd continued to persuade her all of Sunday evening and she had no choice but to give in, loving how happy he was.

Brennan's eyes fluttered open and she blinked rapidly a few times, wincing against the sunlight filtering in through the window curtains. She swallowed, wriggling a little as she drifted between sleep and wakefulness.

"Ugh, Bones," a gravely voice musky with sleep groaned into her ear. "I don't think you should be doing that."

It was then that she registered the warm, heavy weight around her naked torso that was Booth's arm, and his morning erection pressed into her back.

Turning so that her head was buried into her pillow, she grinned as she wriggled once more, rubbing deliberately against his length.

Booth growled, a strangely arousing sound that sent jolts straight to her belly. His arm around her waist gripped her tighter and pushed her onto her back, his body rolling on top of hers. He nudged her thighs apart, settling his hips in between them. "Bones," he warned, his dark eyes glinting dangerously.

Brennan smiled lazily up at him, reaching up to place both her hands on his chest. One of her hands trailed upwards to stroke at his pulse point while her other hand drifted down, lower and lower. "Hmm?" she inquired innocently, even as her hand wrapped around him, pumping him firmly once, twice…

She watched in barely concealed fascination - and lust, of course lust - as his dark chocolate eyes darkened into an almost onyx color. Booth's hand reached down, wrapping around her wrist and pulling her hand away from him. He brought her arms up above her head, pinning both of her small, feminine hands with his one of his large ones. He didn't need her distracting him and getting him even more hot and bothered than he was until she was as hot for him as well.

God, being with her was like being a horny seventeen year old again, always afraid he was going to be embarrassingly faster than the girl.

With his free hand, Booth reached down, slipping his hand in between her legs to slip inside of her. He was surprised to find her already wet, her hips pushing up to meet his hand as his fingers dipped into her. He massaged her walls with a few hard strokes, then brought his thumb up to her clit to rub it in maddening, frenzied circles. "So ready for me, Bones?" he whispered, his dark eyes locked on her stormy blue ones.

"Mmm," she moaned her approval as his hand worked on her. "Of course I am," she purred. "Get in me, Booth. I want you inside of me."

He smirked, leaning down to catch her lips in a bruising kiss. She was so stimulated, so caught up in his kiss and the way her walls were clenching, that she didn't even realize it when he'd let go of her hands, or that her arms had moved instinctually to wrap around his neck. She gasped, tearing her mouth from his, when she felt him enter her in one swift stroke, his hard length filling her to the hilt. Her back arched off of the bed, and his mouth descended on her breast, his lips closing in on one nipple - he had discovered early on in their physical relationship that one of her weaknesses was when he would suck on her nipple while he moved inside of her. It drove her absolutely wild.

"Mmmpfh," Brennan moaned loudly, one hand fisting the rumpled sheets below her as her legs wrapped around Booth's waist, and the other flying over to the back of his head, holding him to her chest. "_Booth…_"

Booth grinned against her puckered flesh, moving his head back and forth as he gently grazed his teeth over the hardened pink nub. "Mm-hmm, baby, let go for me…" he encouraged.

Brennan's hips slammed into his over and over again as he thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew, deep inside of her. "Don't. Call. Me. _Baby_!" she ground out, her walls fluttering as she clenched around him one last time, flooding around him. Booth thrust into her, one, two, three, more times and he came, his entire body shaking uncontrollably as his seed shot into her womb - hard.

"Oh, damn," he breathed, somehow finding enough strength to grip her by the hips and rolling her with him with his length still buried deep inside of her, so that she laid on top of him, fearing he'd crush her if he just laid limp on top of her.

Brennan hummed happily, agreeing with him, snuggling into his warm body with her head lying on his chest. Booth chuckled at her kittenish behavior, running his hand up and down her smooth back.

They stayed in silence for a few moments before Booth spoke up, asking her a question that had been nagging at him for a while now. "Bones?"

"Hmm?"

"Why haven't you ever invited me back to your place?" He thought she'd tensed minimally in his arms but she was relaxed all over again before he could really tell. "I mean…We went over to mine a few times, and sometimes we just stay late at the lab. And this is great, Bones, this cabin…But we've never gone to yours."

Brennan lifted her head, propping her chin on his chest as she gazed at him questioningly. "Are you not enjoying our time together?" she asked, curiosity twinkling in her blue eyes - the color of a calm aqua-colored ocean, the color that her eyes always turned into right after sex.

"I am," he was quick to reassure. "Of course I am. You know I am. I was just…Curious, is all, Bones."

She nodded, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "I suppose that's reasonable," she deduced. She thought about her reply for a moment, then gave him a sheepish smile. "It's nothing weird. It's just…If you came over to my place, you'd know about my secret. And I'm just not quite ready enough to tell you about it yet."

"Oh," he frowned. "It's a big secret?"

She nodded. "Yeah, pretty big," she agreed.

He eyed her suspiciously. "You're not married or anything, are you?"

She rolled her eyes, a chuckle escaping her lips. "No, Booth, I'm not married."

"Engaged?"

She slapped at his chest. "Nope, you're the only fully grown male with whom I am sharing an intimate relationship with at the moment," she soothed. "I'm just…I'm sorry if you feel badly that I haven't invited you over."

He shook his head. "No, no, I don't feel badly," he assured her. "I was just…Curious. It's okay, Bones."

"Are you angry that I'm not ready to tell you my secret yet?" she asked him, reaching out with her hand to gently trace his lips with her fingertips.

"No," he smiled adoringly at her. "I understand, Bones. I…" he hesitated for a moment. "I have a secret, too."

"Married?" she teased, quirking her eyebrow at him as she threw his question back at him.

"No," he laughed.

"Engaged?"

"No!" he rolled them over, his large body pinning her small frame to the mattress. She giggled uncharacteristically, drawing her arms around him. "All I'm saying is, I get it. You've got a secret, I've got a secret. When the time is right, we'll tell each other. So now isn't it - I'm okay with that."

She nodded. "It would be hypocritical of me to be upset at you for not divulging your secret to me when I am keeping one from you as well," she stated in a logical tone of voice. "Therefore, I, too, and okay with your plan of waiting for the right time."

He grinned boyishly at her. "Y'know, sometimes, you're just…Really cute," he admitted, running his hand down her side.

Brennan scowled at him. "I am a fully developed female - I am not cute," she retorted.

"Yeah, I noticed you're fully developed," he growled playfully, ducking his head to give her a lingering kiss. "Let's play hookie today," he suggested between kisses.

Brennan chuckled throatily. "We played 'hookie' yesterday, Booth," she reminded him. "We can't two days in a row. Someone would get suspicious."

"Ah, my people and your people don't cross on a day to day basis," he shrugged, sucking on her lower lip for a moment before making a path of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat and chest. "We're good," he mumbled around a puckered nipple.

He had her writhing underneath him, one large hand splayed across her well defined belly, his head in between her legs, when his phone rang. "Ugh, don't you dare stop, Booth," she warned, her hand gripping at the back of his head to keep his mouth on her. He faltered for one brief moment before his lips were moving at that same fast pace, ignoring the shrill ringing of his phone.

She had just flooded all around him, his tongue lapping up her creamy nectar, when his phone rang persistently again for the fourth time in a row. He crawled up her body, glaring at his phone.

He reached out, ready to snap at whomever was on the other side, only to see that it was a call coming from his superior. He reluctantly answered the phone. "No, sir…I didn't hear the phone ringing…" _Ugh, such a rookie excuse_, he winced.

It was more than a little distracting to have Brennan smoothing her hands up and down his chest, her right leg hooked over his waist with his erection cradled against her heat, but he managed to get what his boss was telling him. Mostly.

"Yes, sir, right away, sir," he hung up his phone, sighing and scowling disappointedly.

"Work?" Brennan guessed correctly.

Booth nodded. "They're calling me in," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry, Bones."

"That's fine," she replied, perking up almost instantly as she remembered the reason why she was resisting his suggestion to stay at the cabin another day. "Dr. Goodman emailed me yesterday to tell me that the Incan mummy I was brought in to authenticate had arrived at the Jeffersonian yesterday. I can't wait to get started on it!"

Booth watched as Brennan jumped up from the bed, completely unabashed as she made her way to the dresser stark naked. "Should I be offended that you're more excited about some old shriveled up mummy than you are about spending time naked with me?" he asked, admiring the view of her nude body from his spot on the bed.

Brennan rolled her eyes, grabbing the hairbrush she'd left on the vanity table and started brushing at her hair. "No, I'm not," she defended. "I just don't think that we could spend another day here, and I'm seeing the bright side of things."

He chuckled. "Alright, fine," he conceded, pushing the sheets away and standing up from the bed. He stretched, cracking a few muscles as he did, and made his way towards the en-suite bathroom. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

Brennan, whose eyes had traveled appreciatively over his body, nodded at his prominent erection. "Do you need some help with that?" she asked coyly, being so blasé about it as though she was asking if he needed her to help make breakfast.

He choked a little on air at her offhanded tone, before shaking his head, allowing a huge grin to spread across his lips. "Don't tempt me, Bones," he growled playfully, walking over to her to steal a kiss from her lips. "But if you, uh, help me I'm gonna get distracted and I can't be late to work when my boss is already pissed at me. It's already an hour drive back to DC."

"But you're going to be uncomfortable," she pouted.

He chuckled. "I'll handle it," he promised. "Now, please, stop trying to tempt me…I'm losing control here, Bones." He stole another kiss from her before quickly turning on his heel and rushing into the bathroom.

Brennan watched with a sly smile as Booth slipped into the bathroom. She waited until she heard the shower running, brushing the hairbrush through her hair over and over again. Once she heard the water running, she placed the brush back down on the vanity and slipped into the shower with him.

His eyes were closed, his head tilted back, so she made sure to be extra quiet as she dropped to her knees in front of him. "Bones!" he yelped as one of her hands wrapped around his wrist, drawing his hand away from his erection. Her other hand gripped his length and pumped twice, hard, before her mouth was engulfing him as much as she could. "_Oh…God, Bones…_"

She smiled. If he had time to 'handle it', she had time to take care of him.

BBBBBBB

They had driven separately back to DC, considering Brennan had only asked Booth to join her after spending an unproductive time half of Saturday all by herself at the cabin.

Since they both had clean clothes and had taken a shared shower back at the cabin, they drove straight to work - Booth to the Hoover to rush to that meeting with his superiors, and Brennan to the Jeffersonian to get started on the Incan mummy.

Barely two hours after she'd arrived at the Jeffersonian, Booth came looking for her. "Bones!" he rushed towards her, waving a piece of paper in his hands.

Brennan, who had been walking down the sterile hallway towards her office, carrying the files of paperwork on the Incan mummy, turned her head to give him an inquiring look. "Booth, what're you doing here?" she asked, not stopping to chat.

Booth walked right behind her as he replied, handing her the photo he was holding in his hand. "Is this human?" he asked.

Brennan took it, examining the picture of the skeleton of a hand. "Looks human to me," she replied.

"Alright."

Brennan made to enter her office, stopping briefly at the entrance to give the picture back to Booth and ask him why he'd randomly showed up at her office with a picture of a human hand. Her abrupt halt made him bump into her, his hands automatically reaching out to grasp at her hips.

Just like that, all traces of professionalism disappeared from his eyes, his fingers stroking her hips through the material of her top. Brennan glowered at him, giving him a look that clearly said '_behave_'. He cleared his throat, dropping his hands instantly. "Sorry," he muttered.

"What's the deal?" she asked, in reference to the photo.

"It was found in Eastern Washington State," he supplied.

"Where?"

"Inside a bear."

She shook her head as she sat down at her chair behind her desk. "No, I mean…" she paused, doing a double take. "Inside a bear?"

Booth nodded. "An autopsy revealed more bone fragments inside the bear's stomach and intestine," he revealed.

"An autopsy on an animal is called necropsy," the fact slipped from her lips automatically.

Booth blinked at her. "Yeah, it's pretty crucial we get that straight right off the bat," he said sarcastically. "Meanwhile, about the dead human being…?"

"What do you need me for? The bear ate somebody," she reminded him.

"26 bone fragments in total. Case bumped to the Seattle field office. They bumped it to me," he sank down on a chair opposite hers and handed her the thumb drive containing the rest of the pictures he hadn't printed out. "Check it out."

"Why did they bump it to you?" Brennan asked.

"Bones," he scoffed, trying to downplay it. "I mean, do you really care about the inner workings of the FBI office?"

She smirked knowingly anyway. "They bumped it to you because you work with me," she stated.

He scowled at her. "No, they hoped that you could help ID the body," he clarified. There, that didn't make him sound like the helpless link to better help, did it?

Brennan pushed the thumb drive into its proper slot and waited for the images to load. "From a hand?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, they have high expectations."

Brennan looked at the screen as the images popped up, the thumb drive finished loading. "Definitely human…Opposable thumbs," she noted. "Probably male from the size…Uh-oh," she squinted at the screen.

"What?" Booth asked, walking around her desk and standing behind her, bending down to take a look at the screen.

"Kerf marks - marks made from a cutting tool," she revealed.

"Maybe when they cut open the bear?" Booth suggested.

Brennan shook her head. "No, it's not a straight edge," she highlighted the marks with her mouse, then pointed to them on the screen using her hand. "Residual cross section striae," she said, as though that should explain everything.

"Hmm," Booth hummed. "Just because you say it in that definitive tone doesn't mean it means anything to me."

Brennan rolled her head over to his direction, throwing him an irritated look which he easily tamped down with a charm smile. "These marks were made from a saw," she clarified. "The hand was already separated from the rest of the person when the bear ate him."

Booth made a face at that. "Somebody was…Dismembered and fed to a bear?" he questioned.

Brennan shrugged. "That's one possibility," she conceded.

Booth sighed, straightening up. "Okay. Um, thanks, Bones."

Brennan reached out to take out the thumb drive from her computer. "Glad I could help," she handed the USB device back to Booth.

"But, uh, you're not done," Booth said, pocketing the thumb drive and discretely putting space between himself and Brennan so that she couldn't physically hurt him once he'd dropped the bomb.

She nodded. "I'll check out the photographs and the x-rays to see if I can confirm sex and age," she offered.

He exhaled, figuring it was like ripping off a band-aid. He just had to do it and do it quick. "Pack your bags - we're going to Washington State."

Brennan scoffed. "I'm not going to Washington State," she stated defiantly.

Booth sank down on the chair opposite hers, taking out the pen he always carried out in case he had to jot down something in his notebook. "Again, just because you say it in that definitive tone doesn't mean it means anything to me," he grinned, flipping the pen in the air and catching it smugly.

Brennan glowered at him. "Booth," she growled, leaning forward in her seat. "You and the FBI don't own me, okay? I am an invaluable employee here at the Jeffersonian. You can't just expect me to-"

He cut her off before she could really get into her rant. "I've already cleared it with Goodman," he interrupted.

Which was really the wrong thing to say because a red flush rose to her cheeks. "You went behind my back and talked to my boss!" she didn't seem any more pleased than she had moments ago.

Booth leaned forward in his seat as well so that they were both leaning across her desk, their faces inches apart. "Aw, come on, Bones…Think of it as a sort-of vacation," he suggested, charm smile firmly in place.

She rolled her eyes. "I already had a vacation, Booth," she snapped, though her ire was beginning to lessen. "Remember? We spent three days in a cabin in the middle of the woods."

A rapacious grin spread across his lips at the memories of their weekend away. "Yeah, I remember," his voice was low when he spoke. "But, come on, Bones…Please? I need you on this."

His eyes were wide and deceptively innocent and warm, pleading with her. "We'll go to Washington State, we'll work on the case during the day and continue our mini vacation at night…What do you say?" he coaxed.

Brennan sighed, leaning back against her seat. Her lips formed an unintentional pout as she gazed at the man in front of her. _Could he, for _once_, be less irresistible_? Brennan thought irritably.

BBBBBBB

After her argument with Dr. Goodman - which she had subsequently lost - Brennan had driven back to her apartment to pack a duffel for her trip to Washington State. Booth had given her an hour and a half before he would pick her up from her apartment building. It gave her enough time to not only call Christian and tell him of the change in plan regarding which-parent-gets-the-boys-this-week, but also to stop by Clementine Academy, where the twins went to school, in time for their lunch break.

"What's in Washington State?" Rosalie crinkled her nose as she, Wyatt and Brennan sat at a table out in the courtyard, the sun shaded from them thanks to the large Sunbrella umbrella they were seated underneath.

Brennan grinned at her expression. "A human hand found in the stomach of a dead bear," she replied.

Rosalie's expression immediately cleared, a sparkle entering her cobalt blue eyes. "Cool," she admitted.

Wyatt looked to Brennan with a mischievous smile on his face. "Any rules you want us to adhere to? No wild parties?"

"No half-naked boys in my room," Rose added.

"Or, girls, in my case," Wyatt corrected.

"No alcohol."

"No drugs."

"No hobos."

Wyatt looked to Rosalie with a raised eyebrow. "_Hobos_? Who says that anymore?" he asked rhetorically.

Brennan rolled her eyes at their antics. "You do realize that not only will Sylvia, your _nanny_, be staying with you for the entire duration of my absence, but Angela will be dropping by every day, right?" she reminded them of the routine they had come up with quite a while ago for whenever Brennan had to leave town. "And Zan and Tri will probably stay with you, too, if Christian can't take them for the whole week."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "I don't even know why you let him have the boys some days," she told Brennan.

Brennan gave her a reprimanding look. "Christian is their father, Rosalie," she chided. "I can't ban him from seeing them if he wants to."

"With a good lawyer, you can," Wyatt quipped.

Brennan slapped his arm playfully. She raised her arm to look at her watch. "Alright, I've got to go. I've got to stop by Christian's apartment to say goodbye to Zan and Tri before going home to pack," she listed off unnecessarily. "I won't be there when you get home, so hug me now."

Rose grinned and wrapped her arms tightly around Brennan without complaint. Wyatt gave her a slightly mortified look. "_But mom_…You're my _mom_…This is a _public_ place…" he whined.

"Wyatt Ephraim Brennan," she scowled. "Get over here and give me a hug!"

He bowed his head before shuffling his feet closer to her and wrapping his arms around her. "If anyone starts calling me 'momma's boy', we'll know who to blame," he mumbled into her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes and kissed the top of his head.

"Come on, momma's boy," Rose teased as soon as Brennan relinquished her hold on him. "Lunch is almost over.

Wyatt gave Brennan a chagrined, knowing look as if to say 'see? I told you'. Brennan shook her head, waving at the twins as they walked off back towards the school building.

She made a quick stop at Christian's, where a half naked blonde answered the door. This only served to prove her point that Zan and Demetri shouldn't spend any more time than necessary with Christian - she got into a heated argument with Christian over why he couldn't keep the boys when they would only be staying with a nanny for most of the week, and said a tearful goodbye to the little ones.

"Bye, mommy!" Zan said from his spot in the foyer of Christian's apartment.

"Yeah, bye, mommy!" Demetri echoed his big brother, jumping up and down next to Zan.

Brennan grinned at the two of them. "Bye, boys. I love you," she called, waving at the two of them. With another glare sent Christian's way - not that he noticed, what with said half-naked blonde draped all over him - she left.

Booth was waiting for her impatiently in front of her building when she rushed down twenty minutes later. "You're late," he repeated what he'd told her over the phone just minutes ago.

She scowled at him, slipping into her seat and throwing her duffel into the backseat before snapping her seatbelt on. "I know, okay?" she snapped. "I'm sorry. I had to take care of some things before I left. You didn't give me much notice."

Hours later, Booth was driving the rental SUV he'd picked up from Sea-Tac, down winding roads on his way to Aurora, Washington. Brennan sat next to him, still pouting over having to go on this trip.

Booth shot her a look. "You know, being cooped up in a crappy hotel in the middle of nowhere with a fifty dollar per diem is not my idea of a good time, either, you know?" he said, getting slightly annoyed with her attitude. Even if she looked kinda cute with that little pout on her lips.

Brennan started, turning her head to look at him with raised eyebrows. "You only get fifty dollars a day?" she asked him incredulously. "How can you live on that?"

Booth did a double take at her. "Okay, what do you mean?" he frowned. "What do _you_ get?"

"I don't have a limit," Brennan shrugged. "Just give them the receipts."

"Oh, no, you _have_ to have a limit," Booth argued. "_Everyone_ has a limit. We work for the government."

"I don't have a limit," she insisted.

"But it's not fair!" Recognizing the sulky quality his voice had taken, he amended his statement. "It's not fair to the tax payers. You could get one of those thousand dollar toilet seats."

"I imagine I'm treated differently than you because I have an indispensable skill."

Booth scoffed, "Oh, right. Indispensable…I do not need you."

Now it was Brennan's turn to scoff. "Right, that's exactly what you said a few hours ago at my office," she reminded him. When he remained silent, she continued, "And, oh, what, you can determine the origin of the kerf marks, as well as the sex and age of the victim?"

Booth barked out a laugh, shaking his head at her words. "You know you're a smart ass? You know that?" he snarked.

"Objectively, I'd say I'm very smart although it has nothing to do with my ass," Brennan quipped, pointedly looking away from him and out her window.

He shot her a dirty look she didn't catch. "You know, I tell you what," Booth said after a moment. "You can take me out to dinner. Hmm? Put me on your tab."

"That doesn't seem ethical," she started to decline.

He tempted her with something he knew she wanted the most - "You still want that gun now, don't ya? Hmm?"

Brennan considered, biting on her lower lip. "We'll start with breakfast," she said, looking away from him so she wouldn't have to see the smug expression that she was sure was now gracing his handsome face.

Booth chuckled triumphantly, sliding his glasses back up his nose as he continued driving, looking straight ahead as he grinned. _I got Bones to cave…Hmm, nice job_, he patted himself on the back silently.

BBBBBBB

Booth sought out the Sheriff while Brennan went to the coroner's office to take a look at the bones that had been found inside the bear. He'd caught up with the Sheriff outside a small diner, just leaving after a meal.

"Sheriff Scutter?" Booth called out, jogging slightly to catch up to the man.

"Yeah?" the uniformed man turned to face him.

Booth flashed him his badge and ID. "Special Agent Seeley Booth, from the FBI…We talked on the phone," he introduced himself.

Sheriff Scutter took Booth's extended hand, nodding in recognition. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I didn't expect you to arrive so soon."

Booth shrugged. "Can we talk?" he asked.

The sheriff nodded, tilting his head to the side. "I'm just headed back to the station. Follow me," he said. Booth and the sheriff started walking side by side down the sidewalk. "So you guys found anything yet about the bones?"

Booth nodded. "My partner says it's a guy," he revealed. "Murdered."

Sheriff Scutter's head snapped around to look at Booth, shocked. "Murdered? Wow…" he rubbed his jaw. "I just thought someone got lost out there and got gobbled up by a bear…"

Booth shook his head, "Somebody cut that guy's arm off, Sheriff."

"Couldn't be a local," Sheriff Scutter said immediately. "Somebody missing an arm…That's something you notice."

"How many people live in Aurora?" Booth took out his small notepad and poised his pen over a blank new page, ready to jot down whatever information the sheriff could give him.

Sheriff Scutter shrugged, "Maybe a hundred twenty six in town, another couple of hundred in the unincorporated surroundings…Maybe twelve hundred on the Indian reservation…"

"Tourists?"

"Hikers, campers…It's a beautiful country so they don't realize how dangerous it is," Sheriff Scutter explained. "On average, we lose a couple of hundred every year. Cycle of life, hey?"

If Booth was surprised at the number, he didn't let it show. "Lose anybody recently?" he asked, his tone still business-like.

The Sheriff nodded. "Woman, 29, Anne Noyes from Olympia," the two of them stopped when they came across a shop window that had a 'MISSING' poster for Anne Noyes on it, probably put around town by worried family. "Disappeared a couple of weeks ago. Her parents say she was an experienced hiker," Sheriff Scutter scoffed.

Booth took off his sunglasses and stared at the poster for a few moments before following the sheriff, who had walked on ahead of him towards the station a few feet away from the shop window.

"You must have a few resident crazies?" Booth pressed on.

The sheriff shook his head, understanding Booth's meaning. "Juvenile bush drinking, a couple of domestics, a bar fight or two…Joy riding…" he trailed off. "The only felons we have are poachers. They shoot the black bears and sell the gall bladders on the black market. Park ranger handles that stuff."

They were interrupted when there was a knock at the door. Booth and Sheriff Scutter both turned to find the blonde haired receptionist out front and Brennan standing at the door.

"Can I help you?" Sheriff Scutter asked.

"Yeah," Brennan replied. She thanked the blonde receptionist for leading her into the sheriff's office. "I'm with him," she pointed to Booth, stepping into the office.

Sheriff Scutter's eyes roved up and down Brennan's form appreciatively. "Suddenly I wish I was FBI," he muttered to Booth.

Booth tried not to show his jealousy as he laughed sarcastically. "Sheriff Chris Scutter, Dr. Temperance Brennan," he introduced, doing his best not to glare at the sheriff as he smiled largely at Brennan.

Brennan, oblivious to either men, shook the sheriff's hands. "My first forensic anthropologist," Sheriff Scutter sounded way too pleased for Booth's comfort. He gestured for Brennan to join him at the desk. "Please."

Brennan shrugged off her backpack, setting it on the floor next to the empty seat opposite the sheriff's usual chair, and sank down on the chair. "We need to find the rest of the body," she said briskly, getting straight to business. "Sherman - Ranger Rivers - traced the bear's route back a week…Said he didn't find anything," Scutter told them, sitting behind his desk.

"What, is he some kind of Indian scout?" Booth raised an eyebrow.

"Sherman's a Flathead Indian," Scutter allowed. "But since the bear was wearing a GPS collar, he didn't have to fully utilize his Native powers."

"Did he check the scat?" Brennan interjected.

Booth made a face. "What?" he asked, slightly grossed out. "What, do you think there's more people parts in the bear crap?"

"We could maybe go out with Sherman tomorrow…Take a look," Sheriff Scutter suggested.

Booth snorted, shooting Sheriff Scutter a sardonic look, his tone matching his expression when he spoke, "Oh, yeah. Now that you've met Bones, you're all about the inner agency cooperation."

Instead of replying to his jab, Sheriff Scutter shook his head disapprovingly at Booth. "Bones?" he repeated. "Now I don't think that it anyway to talk to a lady."

"Thank you," Brennan said to the sheriff regarding his comment, grateful that at least one person saw enough sense to point this out to Booth. Maybe he'd listen if someone else told him how rude it was of him to call her by that ridiculous moniker. _I'd sort of miss, it, though_, she admitted reluctantly to herself. _Even just a little, on the very rare occasion_.

Brennan grabbed her bag off of the ground, standing up and slinging one strap over her shoulder. Booth moved to her side instantly.

The sheriff, who had stood up when Brennan did, adjusted his pants and buckle, his eyes completely riveted to Brennan. Deciding to take a chance on the beautiful woman, even with her hulking FBI partner right there, he asked, "Do you have dinner plans?"

Booth scowled at him, moving to place a possessive hand on Brennan's lower back. "We're working," he snapped, his voice curt. He threw the file the sheriff had given him earlier on Anne Noyes back to him. "Thanks for that," he said, not sounding the least bit genuine, before his hand fluttered back to Brennan's back and he guided her out of the sheriff's office.

As the stepped out into the open air, Brennan gave Booth a calculating look. "Are you upset that Sheriff Scutter asked me out on a date?" she asked, her beautiful azure wide and as innocuous as her tone.

Booth did a double take at her, still scowling. "No, of course not," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why the hell would I be upset that some guy asked out my girlfriend right in front of me?"

"Was that sarcasm?" her eyebrows drew together in confusion, her gaze still fixed on him as they walked away from the station.

Booth exhaled loudly. "Yes, Bones, it was sarcasm," he answered through gritted teeth.

Brennan nodded, as though she was accepting this fact. "Well, you shouldn't be," she said lightly. "It's not as if Sheriff Scutter knew that we were together." She paused for a moment, shooting him a sly sideways look to note that he hadn't relaxed any at her words. "Besides," she said as they stopped at a red traffic light, waiting for a few cars to pass by. Her hand discretely went to his belt loop and she tugged him towards her, a coy sparkle in her eyes. "You're the only man I have any desire for."

Just like that, the scowl melted away from his face and his lips curled into a soft smile. The warmth in his chocolate eyes caused a shiver to travel down her spine - which he, with his hand on her back, felt. His hand smoothed down her back a few times. "If we weren't out in public, I'd kiss you right now," he murmured in a low voice.

Her only response was to throw him a flirty little smirk.

They had gone to dinner later on that night, at a cozy little bar in town, but Hodgins had called her away about something he'd found in the bear scat and their night was cut short before he could've invited her back to his hotel. Which was probably for the best - the place he was staying at was pretty crummy, and he didn't even get to have his own bathroom. He wasn't sure it was up to Brennan's standard, or that he even wanted to seduce her in a place that sorta reeked like stale beer and fried chicken.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she promised him distractedly, her phone pressed to her ear as they walked out of the bar.

He nodded, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "Yeah, maybe we'll get breakfast?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, sure, Booth," and she was already waving at him absentmindedly, walking away from him in the direction of the Evergreen Lodge, the hotel she was staying at.

BBBBBBB

Booth waited for Brennan for exactly twenty-five minutes before getting started on his breakfast. He was worried for her when he'd called her room several times and she didn't pick up but a trip to the Evergreen Lodge told him he needn't have worried - Brennan and Sherman the park ranger were out on the sidewalk, both looking ready to head on their trip into the woods.

"Booth, there you are," Brennan said, looking as annoyed as he felt. "Where have you been? I want to get started."

"Me? I was at breakfast," he snarked, hoping that his words would spark something in her memory.

Instead, she frowned at him. "Breakfast?" she reeled her head back in shock. "That was hours ago, Booth…What, you slept in or something?"

"What, you know what? Never mind," Booth shook his head, rolling his eyes. He turned to Sherman, who had been watching the exchange with an amused smirk on his face. "Let's just get started, huh?"

It didn't take long for them to find and follow the bear trail with Sherman on their side. "I've been looking for that female hiker since she went missing, but sometimes you never find a trace," Sherman was saying as he led them through the woods. "They fall under the ravine river."

Sherman shot Brennan a look and Booth had to suppress an exasperated look. Was every man in Aurora completely woman-deprived? They all had to crowd around the first attractive woman that came to town? "So how do you like Evergreen Lodge?" Sherman inquired, keeping his tone light.

"Very nice," Brennan replied amicably. "I have a beautiful view of the mountains from the terrace."

Booth shot her a startled look. "You have a terrace?" he asked, surprised and a little envious. He knew that she'd have a better room than him - not only did she have way more budget than him, she was staying at the only place in the town that looked nice and halfway expensive.

Brennan nodded. "Yeah."

He pouted a little. "I'm sharing a bathroom," he sulked somewhat childishly. "No wonder you didn't come down for breakfast."

"What?" she blinked at him confusedly.

"You didn't come down for breakfast, Bones," he repeated.

She shrugged, still not seeing what this had to do with Booth or his bad mood. "I wasn't hungry," she replied nonchalantly. Remembering the conversation they'd had in his car on the way to Aurora, she added, "Sorry you had to pay for your own meal."

"I called your room - there was no answer," he continued on, ignoring her last comment.

Brennan shot him a look that suggested he was very strange to her. "Why the sudden interest in my morning habits, Booth?"

"Look, I just thought we were going to get something to eat," he said in an exasperated tone. "You know, we said, yesterday night…You know, and so I waited. My eggs got cold, that's all. Cold eggs."

Brennan halted to a stop for a brief moment. "Did I do a wrong thing?" she asked aloud. "Because I tend to do that, you know? Angela says it's because I'm rarely focused on anything but my work sometimes…I did, didn't I?"

Booth shook his head. "No, it's fine, Bones," he said, his tone still a little sulky.

Brennan had no trouble pointing that out. "You're sulking, Booth," she said, frowning at him.

"I'm not sulking, Bones!" he hissed, aghast.

"Yes, you are."

"I am a manly man, and manly men do not sulk."

She rolled her eyes. "What is even the correct response to such a Neanderthal comment like that?" she said sarcastically.

Booth drew in a deep, slightly haggard breath and exhaled slowly, loudly. "Look, we're good, okay? It's just breakfast," he shrugged it off.

Brennan eyed him contemplatively as they walked in silence. "If you want, we can make plans to get breakfast tomorrow and you can stand me up," she offered.

Despite his previous irritation, Booth couldn't help the smile flickering across his face. "Naw, Bones," he chuckled, giving her an adoring look that he tried to hide immediately lest Sherman caught it. "I'm good. How about we just make plans to get breakfast tomorrow and we both show up?"

She nodded, a serious expression on her face. "I find your compromise acceptable."

Sherman spoke up next as they reached a certain patch of ground. "This is where the bear was shot," he pointed to the ground in front of them.

"How far did he get before he died?" Booth asked, snapping back to 'work mode' immediately.

"Oh, about a hundred yards."

"How do you know that's the right way?" Brennan called out to Booth, who was walking ahead of both her and Sherman.

Booth cocked his head to the side, nodding at the spots of blood on the ground. "It's not hard to track a wounded bear," he replied wryly.

Sherman, walking next to Brennan, said, "Did you ever hear of the bone gatherers? Collecting bones so that the dead can make their journey to the next world?"

Brennan smiled slightly. "Not even sure I believe in the next world," she admitted.

"Doesn't matter what you believe in," Sherman insisted. "You're a bone gatherer. That's a good thing, helping the spirits move on."

Brennan laughed at his words. "Thank you," she said sincerely, easily. "It's probably the best job description I will ever get."

The two of them approached Booth, who was leaning against a tree less than a foot away from a pile of bear scat. Booth, toothpick in his mouth, and just a little smug that he'd found the scat before some Indian scout expert, called out to Brennan. "Over here!"

"You find something?" Brennan picked up her pace, rushing over towards him.

"Bear scat in the woods," Booth nodded to the pile of scat. "I think he voided here and headed off over there."

Brennan knelt down in front of the scat, briskly opening up her backpack to grab some gloves. "Okay, see if you can find any older samples," she instructed Booth, pulling on the gloves and grabbing a container from her bag to put some of the scat in it.

Booth nodded, stepping away from the tree and towards Sherman to walk away from Brennan and look for what she'd requested of him. As they moved away, Sherman looked back at her, kneeling on the forest floor and grabbing at some of the bear poop with a gloved hand to put it into a Tupperware container.

"She ain't the squeamish type, is she?" Sherman mused to Booth, watching her.

Booth looked back towards Brennan, hiding a smile, and turned back to Sherman. "I'm going to go out on a limb here, Sherman, and guess - you don't get a lot of good-looking women coming through town?"

Sherman smirked a little at Booth's words. Once they were far enough from Brennan that she had no chance of hearing them unless she had superhuman hearing, Sherman brought up the subject nonchalantly. "So…the bone lady…"

"Yeah, what about her?" Booth asked gruffly, his eyes on the lookout for more bear scat. _God, this is something I'd never thought I'd have to do_, he groused silently.

"She single?" Sherman asked.

Booth choked a little on his own saliva. He swallowed then shot Sherman a glare. "Hey, a little professionalism, huh?" he growled.

Sherman held up a hand. "Hey, all I'm sayin' is that a beautiful woman like that…Shame to let her go without even asking," he shrugged.

"Yeah, well, she's not," Booth snapped. "Single. And even if she was, you'd have no chance." Sherman looked a little offended by that, but Booth was already moving on. "Let's just…Focus on the job, huh?" he moved a little further from Sherman, a surly expression on his face.

They had managed to find another pile of bear scat, which Brennan as fearlessly tackled, before they decided to head back into town. "I'm going to send this to the Jeffersonian," Brennan said to Booth. "Meet up later for lunch?"

He grinned and nodded. "Okay, so we're on the same page, right…We're both gonna show up? Today? For lunch?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "You're not letting that go, are you?" she asked rhetorically, tilting her head to the side and watching him with an exasperated expression.

"Not anytime soon."

BBBBBBB

Brennan had caught up to Booth and the sheriff outside the diner, and was now seated in the passenger's seat of the sheriff's parked car, Booth standing outside and looking through the open window on the sheriff's side.

"Zack will have the odontologist at the Jeffersonian take a look, but I'm right," she told them, right after revealing what she and Zack had discovered about the bite marks found on the bones.

"A cannibal?" Sheriff Scutter clarified. "You mean, a Hannibal Lector type deal?" he looked fairly disgusted by that.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan confessed.

Booth shook his head at her words. "Yeah, when we get back, we'll do a movie night," he assured her. "We're certain a human being gnawed on that bone?"

"Bit, gnawed, removed the flesh…" she trailed off, agreeing with Booth.

"That…That's really not good," Sheriff Scutter definitely looked sick to his stomach this time. He glanced at the half eaten sandwich in his hand and threw it aside, not particularly hungry at the moment.

"Are you sure, Bones?" Booth pressed on. "You have never seen anything like this before?"

"Of course I have seen this before," she sounded incredulous that he even had to ask. "I did grad work among the Warri of the Amazon. They have a long history of cannibalism. I've also seen evidence of cannibalism in some 12th century Native American sites…It's not a big deal."

Sheriff Scutter stared at her for a second. "Have you ever…?" he pointed to his mouth to indicate his meaning.

"I've never been offered human flesh before," Brennan told him.

"But what if you had?" Booth asked, suddenly curious to know her answer.

Brennan pursed her lips. "It's an interesting question…I would have to measure my own social inculcation against scientific inquiry," she admitted.

"Okay, that's sick," he scrunched up his face in disgust.

Brennan chose to ignore him. "You know, maybe we're looking for someone who needs to be rescued," she suggested. "Maybe the young man died and the missing girl, hungry and lost, came upon him. Needing food, she…" she trailed off meaningfully.

"Sawed him up and barbequed him?" the sheriff continued incredulously.

"There was no evidence that the hand was cooked," she disputed.

Sheriff Scutter shook his head. "She does not look like the type of girl that would chew on raw flesh," he said, convinced Anne Noyes was innocent.

Brennan scoffed. "You'd be surprised. When survival instincts kick in…"

"If it isn't her, then we're dealing with some psycho cannibal killer," Booth didn't sound at all pleased about that.

"This is sick," Sheriff Scutter echoed Booth's earlier words.

Brennan started a little at his words, something occurring to her. "Someone eating raw human flesh is going to get sick," she informed the others, hoping that this new bit of information could help them find the killer faster.

Brennan had gone to talk to Dr. Rigby, questioning him about any patient he'd had that had been admitted due to Prion disease. She hadn't gotten any useful information out of him, and now she was on her way to the Hi-Bleu, the hotel Booth was staying at. Her eyes sort of watered the moment she stepped into the old, almost run-down looking building.

_God, what is that smell_? Brennan wondered, making her way to the elevator. The elevator doors slid open slowly and she stepped in, the metal making a groaning sound as she did so, and pressed the button for the seventh floor. The moment the doors slid open again, she stepped out quickly. _Note to self - take the stairs next time_, she thought. The elevator had felt like it was about to snap at any moment.

She made her way to room 713 and knocked on the door. "Yeah, hold on a sec!" Booth's voice called out on the other side of the door. She waited for a few moments before the door swung open.

Booth looked pleasantly surprised to see her there. "Bones! Hey, what're you doing here?" he stepped aside to let her in.

"Just wanted to see you," she said easily, looking around the small room. "You do realize the place reeks?"

Booth scowled at her, closing the door behind her. "Well, I'm sorry, Bones, that the FBI doesn't rise to your standards," he said sarcastically, moving past her to sit on the bed, which creaked loudly under his weight. "We're on a tight budget here. I know it's not the ritzy stuff you're so used to, but…"

"Booth, don't be silly," she scoffed, waving aside his sarcasm. "You know I've been to places ridden with war, disease and poverty…This is nothing compared to that. All I'm saying is…We're not in a place ridden with war, disease and poverty. We're in Aurora. There's no reason for you to stay in a run-up place like this."

"Run-down, Bones," he corrected automatically. "And unless you've forgotten, I only have fifty bucks to spend a day…"

She nodded. "So come stay with me," she offered.

Booth's eyes flew to hers in surprise. "Really?" he questioned, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Yes," she grinned cutely at him, making her way over to him to sit in his lap, her legs thighs straddling him on each side. The bed groaned even more at the added weight - it really wasn't made for two people. "You said we could treat our nights in Aurora as an extended weekend together and so far…I've been very lonely at night."

He chuckled warmly, one hand sliding high up her thigh, the other splayed across her back. "Mmm, I'd like that," he conceded, reached up to sweetly capture her lips in his, moaning low in his throat as she responded eagerly, her arms wrapping themselves around her neck and her hand sliding up to his hair.

He shifted, about to lay back on the bed with her on top of him - because, _God_, he'd missed touching her, kissing with her, tasting her, being with her - but the bed groaned once more and sunk dangerously low.

They pulled apart, and Brennan laughed. "Booth, just get your things - we'll go to my room right now," she tempted him enticingly, her soft lips returning to his every few seconds to gently nibble on his or to sweetly draw his bottom lip in between her mouth and suck enthusiastically.

"Mmm…" he ran his hands through her hair. "Okay…But only because I want to see your terrace."

Brennan rolled her eyes, smacking his chest with her hand. "How about we have sex on my terrace?" she suggested instead. "'cuz that would be better than just standing on it."

He threw his head back and let out a loud guffaw - it amused him to no end how she could just ask him things like that with innocent curiosity and a childlike eagerness on her face.

BBBBBBB

"I'm sending a bunch of frozen meat by overnight air," Brennan spoke to Angela over the phone. She and Booth were in his rented SUV, driving away from Sherman's house after Booth had lost him in the woods and Brennan had discovered the meat in his ice box. "I need to know what it is as soon as possible."

Even through the phone, Angela's disgust was clear. "Ugh, you think it's human?" she asked Brennan.

Brennan pursed her lips. "Maybe," she conceded. "It's a funny color."

"So, did you catch the guy?" Angela asked.

"No," Brennan answered, shooting Booth a look. "Booth lost him in the woods."

Booth started. It was obvious she and Angela were talking about Sherman and the chase earlier on. "Whoa - wait a second," he interrupted. "I didn't 'lose' him."

"Well, you didn't catch him."

"So you two have the night free?" Angela spoke into Brennan's ear.

"Yes," Brennan answered her friend. "We can't do anything until I get a determination on that meat and Booth has to wait until it's light for the guy he lost."

Booth threw her an irritated glare. "I didn't lose him, okay? He, uh, tell her that my flashlight died," he urged Brennan.

"She doesn't care," Brennan shook her head at him.

"Give me the phone," Booth reached for it with one hand.

Brennan swatted his hand away, holding the phone further out of his reach. "It's not safe to drive and talk on the cell phone," she reminded him.

"Are you two fighting?" Angela asked Brennan, concerned.

"Professional pride," Booth was saying. "Tell her. Please tell her that."

Brennan sighed, rolling her eyes. "Booth wants you to know that he lost the guy because his flashlight died," she repeated to Angela loyally.

"And because he's an Indian and he's a park ranger and he's very, very familiar with the territory," Booth listed off. "Tell her that." That way, with Sherman as some sort of superhero forest expert, he wouldn't sound so lame.

"Did you hear that?" Brennan asked Angela, having no desire to really repeat Booth's entire speech.

"Yeah, something about Indian territory?"

"Yeah, she says she understands," Brennan told Booth dismissively. "I need to know about that meat as soon as possible," she returned back to business, speaking to Angela once more.

"Yeah, I'll tell Zack," Angela promised.

Before she could react, Booth had grabbed her cell phone. "Give me the phone," he placed it to his ear. "Hold up. Plus, you know what, it wasn't even my flashlight, okay? It was the sheriff's flashlight and his batteries…They ran out."

Brennan glared, snatching the phone back from him. "Okay!" he surrendered, placing both hands back on the wheel.

"Goodnight, Angela," Brennan said into the phone.

"Hey," Angela stopped her. "You have to take that man for a drink and have a little fun yourself."

She was having fun, with Booth, in the room they now shared. But, if she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that the thought of spending a fun night out on the town with Booth sounded very appealing…After all, this was nighttime, and nighttime was - as Booth had proposed - their extended weekend away with each other.

So, she tucked the phone away from her mouth and turned to Booth. "Fun and a drink - where do we find that?" she asked.

They decided to go to a local bar that they hadn't gone to before, but where Booth had heard from some of the locals that it was where most of the town went to at night if they wanted to have a little fun.

Brennan went down to the bar first since she'd taken the first shower and had gotten ready earlier than Booth, promising to meet him at the bar when he arrived. She found that the atmosphere wasn't as bad as she thought. There were quite a few people she recognized hanging around, the music wasn't too bad, there was a dance floor and a pool table that made her want to challenge Booth to a game at later.

Charlie, the overnight guy, had asked her for a dance before she'd barely stepped into the bar, and she'd accepted - he was a nice guy and she wanted to pass the time before Booth arrived.

"So I was surprised to see you here," Charlie said to her as they danced together. "You know, in your book, you never seem to get your man."

Brennan chuckled slightly at his words. "Well, that's not me, that's just a character," she reminded him. "In real life you have to wait for lab results."

"I see," Charlie smiled. "Well, lucky for me."

"I don't know," Brennan laughed. "I'm afraid I'm not a very good dancer. Apparently, I lead."

Charlie simply shrugged, not at all upset by that. "So I'll follow," he promised.

Booth stepped into the bar, refreshed and ready for some fun with Brennan, only to find her dancing with Charlie, the blonde overnight guy. He kept his eyes on them, not liking how happy Charlie was and how widely Brennan grinned back at him, as he made his way to the bar.

He hadn't even realized that he'd taken a seat next to the sheriff until Scutter held out his hand. "Hey, Booth," Booth took Scutter's hand and shook it. "Want a beer?" Booth nodded his response, and Scutter called out for another beer when the bartender asked.

"Any headways on who the cannibal might be?" Scutter asked Booth.

"Yeah, can't really talk about it, Sheriff," Booth answered distractedly

Scutter seemed to notice that Booth was distracted and followed his line of sight to where Brennan was dancing with Charlie, and nodded, scoffing in agreement. "I know, right?" he said to Booth. "First gorgeous woman to come through town since 1995 and Charlie's crawlin' all over her."

Booth didn't reply, though his eyes did flicker to Scutter for a moment, before fixing on Brennan once more. He watched, his heart pounding a beat faster and a tad stronger than before, as Brennan started feeling up Charlie's arms. _What the hell is she doing_? Booth wondered.

He was just about to interrupt the dance, when Dr. Rigby cut in, twirling Brennan out of Charlie's arms and into his own. Charlie stepped back towards the bar, watching the two of them with a disappointed expression on his face.

"Does every guy in this town has the hots for Bones?" Booth hadn't realized that he'd spoken that out loud until Sheriff Scutter chuckled.

"Have you seen your partner, Booth?" Scutter shook his head, still chuckling away. "Of course every single guy is interested. What, _you're_ not?"

Booth's eyes caught Scutter's for a moment, and he reminded himself to wear a carefully blank expression or their secret would be blown, before he looked away. "I'm not single," he evaded the question. _Besides, it's true. I'm not single. He just never asked me who my woman is…_he thought to himself.

Sheriff Scutter nodded, then looked back towards the dancing pair. "Oh, hey, they're coming this way," he noted, rising from his seat. "I'm gonna cut in."

And before Booth could say anything, Sheriff Scutter was already there, taking hold of Brennan's hand the moment Dr. Rigby twirled her away.

"Hey, Sheriff's time," Booth heard him say, the two of them dancing close enough to where he was that he didn't need to strain much to hear over the music.

Booth watched as they danced, the sheriff making some lame attempt at flirtation by asking about the case and showing off his sheriff's badge. _Okay, that's it_, Booth thought, a little angrily. _I came here for fun with Bones, and I'm gonna get some time with her. Screw these horny pathetic men_.

He caught Brennan just as the sheriff twirled her. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked rhetorically, maneuvering the Brennan and himself away from the sheriff. "I thought you might need a break," he told her.

"What happened to your shirt?" Brennan asked, the hand that wasn't engulfed by his making its way to his first few undone buttons, her fingers dipping slightly between the opened shirt to rub at his bare flesh.

"Well, we're in a bar - it's a look," he replied.

"Everybody is pumping me."

He drew his eyebrows together, not really liking the image that came to mind at her words. "I'm sorry?" he practically growled, shooting a glare at the three men that had danced with her before him.

"For information on the case," she clarified.

He felt a little stupid now for the lewd jump his brain had made. That scenario hadn't even made any sense, and Brennan - of course - wasn't that kind of a woman. "Bones," he said, a little surprised by her naivety. "They are only pretending to be interested in the case."

"Why?" she sounded truly baffled. "They're hitting on you," he explained.

She laughed at his words, a blush rising to her cheeks. Of course, she'd noticed a few appreciative looks sent her way but she hadn't realized that any of those men had truly been interested in her. "Are you sure?" she asked, sounding a little too pleased by the fact.

"Yes, I'm sure," he growled. "You're the hottest thing this town has seen in a long time. Check out the competition," he said, dipping her so that she could discretely catch sight of a scowling Dr. Randall sitting at the bar.

He up righted her once he was sure she had seen Dr. Randall scowling in their direction. "Now that is someone who wants to eat your heart," he teased. He spun them around, a predatory gleam entering his eyes. "Not that it matters, does it, Bones?" he murmured, his voice soft. "None of them will be going home with you tonight."

"Technically, home is in DC and we're nowhere near done in Aurora to be headed home," Brennan replied, not really sure what she was saying because Booth was holding her, one strong arm wrapped around her petite waist, and he smelled so _absolutely_ fantastic - good enough for her to moan if she took a deep breath of it and let her senses overtake her common sense - and the hand she had on his bicep could feel just how muscled he really was. Charlie couldn't compare if he tried.

"Bones," his voice rumbled, the two of them pressed so close to each other, that the vibrations when he spoke went through both of their bodies. "Let me kiss you," he pleaded.

"Here?" she asked, shocked.

He nodded. "Yeah. Here, Bones. Let me kiss you here," he asked again.

Brennan looked around at the bar, some of its patrons watching them with a keen eye. "Booth, there are people here…We work with them," she stumbled to explain. "They'll see us…"

He couldn't bring himself to care as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Who cares?" he whispered, his tongue darting out to touch her skin. "Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe they'll know you're not on the market anymore."

Brennan pulled back from him, the 'Booth-fog' that had clouded her mind fading slightly. She glared up at him. "You want to kiss me in some display of alpha male superiority, to arrogantly show off that you, in your warped mind, own me!" she said indignantly. "I'm not property, Booth! I will never be on or off some sort of metaphorical market, as though I'm some sort of object to be obtained!"

He nodded his head earnestly, ready to agree with whatever she was saying just so he could get to kiss her - I mean, really. Anthropological rant or hot make-out session with Bones? It's a no-brainer.

"I know that, Bones," he assured her. "It's just that…We're together, you and me. And I know we both agreed at keeping it quiet, but we're away from home. And then there are all these horn-dogs panting over you…"

"I don't know what that means," she told him, half curious and half still defiant over his possessiveness.

"It means," he gazed into her pretty eyes. "That I've been jealous."

She shook her head at his confession. "But you know that I only want you," she said, referring to their conversation outside the sheriff's office the day Scutter had asked her out.

He nodded. "I know, but jealousy is an irrational thing, Bones," he used a terminology she would understand better. "I can't help it. Especially when all these men are chasing after you."

She sighed, staring at him with an unreadable expression that just about drove him mad. Just when he was about to ask her what was on her mind, Brennan nodded her head once, her gaze falling to his chest. "I suppose that, in a reverse situation where we are surrounded by attractive, eligible women who would no doubt find that you are very well structured…I, too, would find myself experiencing irrational bouts of jealousy and possessiveness," she conceded, only somewhat reluctantly.

A slow smile made its way to his lips, his eyes twinkling as he gazed down at her. "Is that your way of saying I can kiss you right here, right now, in front of all these people?" he asked, wanting a clarification lest he kissed her and ended up with a knee to his balls.

Brennan nodded her head, "Yes, I suppose it would be alright for you to kiss me here considering we don't work with any of these people back in DC and it's highly unlikely that either of our bosses would-"

Booth cut her off, letting go of her hand to cup her porcelain cheek and tilt her head back, his lips descending down on hers. They stilled, their feet no longer shuffling across the dance floor, as they lost themselves in their embrace. Despite her earlier reservations, Brennan threw herself into the kiss. Her arm wrapped around Booth's neck, her hand reaching out to touch his jaw, her fingers softly stroking at his skin. Booth's fingers tightened in her hair, moaning into her mouth as their kiss grew rigorous. He was pretty sure the song in the background changed a few times during the duration of their kiss, but he wasn't really paying any attention, his mind spinning uncontrollably as her scent, her touch, her taste invaded his senses.

Finally, her lips slowed and he reluctantly followed, feeling as though his heart might just burst out of his chest at the rate it was going. To calm himself, he gently pulled on her lower lip as he broke their kiss before trailing soft, lingering kisses up her cheekbone, breathing in the sweet smell of jasmine on her skin.

"How's that for a kiss?" she asked him, unable to help the goofy grin spreading across her lips as she snuggled back into his arms, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Booth smiled contentedly, burying his face in her sweet smelling hair. "It was perfect," he murmured.

BBBBBBB

Their killer had been caught, the case having taken a surprising turn to reveal that their cannibal was really Dr. Rigby. Brennan had merely been shocked by it, since she had worked side by side with the man and hadn't suspected a thing, but Booth was more irked by it than she was. It was disturbing to think that someone who had seemed so normal had been so psychotic.

He was more than ready to leave town, and so was she - that Incan mummy wasn't going to be authenticated without her expertise, and she'd missed her angels very much. A few minutes on the phone here and there wasn't nearly enough to suffice.

They were sitting at the bar, the very next day after they'd arrested Dr. Rigby and made the necessary arrangements to place him in custody, to get some breakfast before hitting the road.

Brennan, who was still intrigued by the case despite its closure, was chattering excitedly about it as they started on their food. "And to think I didn't want to come here with you," she said, spooning another bite of cereal into her mouth. "I mean, this was a fascinating case. You don't often find ritual cannibalism practice so close to home."

"Which I find a plus," Booth quipped as the waiter placed his plate of steak and eggs in front of him.

Brennan, who didn't seem to get that talking about human flesh wasn't appropriate conversation for meal times, went on, "There are always those individuals within a species who are driven to break the most basic taboos. I mean, Rigby actually _ate_ human flesh."

Booth shot her an exasperated look, dropping his hands when they had been poised with a fork and knife in each hand, ready to attack his food. "Bones, I just got my steak and eggs," he said, trying to nudge the conversation in another direction.

Brennan ignored him, "Rigby has Prion disease, which means he's been a cannibal for quite some times…Do you realize when we go to trial, he could use the insanity defense?"

"The guy _is_ nuts," Booth pointed out, resigning himself to hardening his stomach and just eating his breakfast despite the topic Brennan had chosen for shop talk.

"Yes, but is he nuts because he got a brain disease from eating human flesh or was he already nuts the first time he ate flesh or did he just…Lick his fingers after surgery?" she argued, not at all fazed by the scenarios as she continued delicately eating her cereal.

Booth, however, was the more normal one between the two. He dropped his fork and knife on the plate, the utensils making a loud 'clang' sound, and picked up his mug. "I should just become a vegetarian," he muttered, losing his appetite over Brennan's words.

"Or, as an alternative, just don't eat people," Brennan shrugged. She chanced a look at Booth. "You know, we should come back up here this winter."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

She furrowed her brows together. "Why not? You were right - this place is beautiful," she said.

He nodded. "Yeah, but every time Aurora comes up, I'm gonna think 'cannibal psycho'," he countered. "Rigby ruined it for me."

She shook her head at him. "That's completely irrational, Booth, one man doesn't make the entire town," she rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm coming back here this winter. Charlie says the skiing is great."

Booth quirked an eyebrow at her. "Oh, it's Charlie?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, the overnight guy."

He snorted derisively. "Yeah, I know who he is."

Brennan, oblivious yet again to her boyfriend slash partner's envy, stared off into space as she thought about the nice overnight guy she'd befriended. "I bet he's a great skier," she mused. "His hips and thighs are perfectly developed for strength and maneuverability."

Booth, who had just only regained the slightest bit of his appetite back, dropped his fork onto his plate once more. "That's it, I'm done," he scowled, pushing his plate away from him.

Brennan turned to look at him. "What? No good?" she asked, eyes falling to his steak and eggs, misinterpreting the meaning behind his words. "You want some cornflakes?" she scooped up some of her cornflakes on her spoon and held the spoon up to him, cupping her hand underneath the spoon so none would spill onto the bar. "Want some?"

Booth shook his head, leaning away from her spoon. "No," he made a face. "Lost my appetite when you started daydreaming about another men's thighs and how maneuverable he is."

Brennan sighed and shook her head at him. "You know, you have a lot of jealousy issues," she commented.

He shot her a look. "You're saying if I were to start fantasizing about another woman's breasts, you'd be just fine with it?" he asked, his incredulous tone telling her he didn't believe that one bit.

She stared at him, shocked. "Breasts? How are Charlie's thighs the equivalent to a woman's breasts? I wasn't fantasizing about his private parts…I wasn't fantasizing about him at all! I was just making an observation," she said defensively.

"Yeah, okay, well maybe next time I'll just observe some other woman's cleavage, see how you like that," he threatened emptily. Brennan was a gorgeous woman and she… Well, it was safe to say that she had ruined all other women for him. But she didn't need to know that.

She scowled at him. "You're being ridiculous," she told him dismissively.

"Oh, I'm being ridiculous!"

"Yes, Booth, you are - I just said that!" was her irritated reply.

Booth rolled his eyes at their banter, but couldn't help an internal smile. _Never had bickering as a form of foreplay before_, he thought to himself. _It's kinda hot…_

_

* * *

_

So that was longer than the other chapters, I think. I added a little more of Brennan's kids in this one. I'm going back and forth, trying to decide when I should introduce Brennan to Parker and Booth to the rest of the Brennan family unit. I want it to be before the Christmas episode, though, so it should be soon.

P.S. I know the 'I waited for you at breakfast, my eggs got cold' part that Booth said wasn't where I wrote it in this chapter but I cut out their second excursion to the woods and I wanted Booth and Brennan to share her room at the lodge, so altered it. Hope you don't mind.

Please leave me a line or two to tell me how you've enjoyed this AU version of the series so far. Thank you for reading and for reviewing.

Juliet.


	5. A Boy in A Bush

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

* * *

_November 8, 2005_

"As far back as 1938," Brennan addressed her audience in the auditorium she had been asked to speak at, paying rapt attention to her, a remote in hand to change the slides up on the projector during the appropriate intervals. "The director of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover, wrote to the then-curator of the Jeffersonian Institution, Professor Daniel Payne, to aid in the evaluation of specimens who were thought to be irrefutably human. This was the result."

She changed the slide, to show them the sketch of a primate that had been drawn nearly seventy years ago. The sight of the slide provided comic relief and the students interested in the anthropology lecture laughed. Brennan smiled along with them. "Despite this early disagreement, the FBI and the Jeffersonian have forged a mutually beneficial, if somewhat tense, relationship which survives to this day," she concluded. "Thank you."

She stepped back, ending the presentation on the projector, and the audience clapped for her. She gave them a final smile, allowing Dr. Goodman to step up to the podium to head off the Q&A session.

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan," Dr. Goodman spoke into the microphone. "Are there any questions?" he looked out over the auditorium filled with students. One female student raised her hand. "Yes?"

The female student stood up, "How much money have you made from your book?"

Brennan, unaware that this was grating on Dr. Goodman's nerves, stepped up quickly to the podium to speak into the microphone over Goodman's shoulder. "I don't really know," she answered quickly. The microphone squeaked as she spoke. "I…Have an accountant and an agent," she offered helpfully.

Goodman gave her a look and subtly blocked her from the microphone with his towering frame. "That's not really the kind of question we are looking for from an Anthropology student," he chastised the student, giving her a stern look before moving on. He noticed another student, a boy this time, raising his hand and nodded at him. "Yes?"

"Did you get your agent before or after you wrote your book?" the boy asked, addressing Brennan once more.

Goodman breathed out slowly through gritted teeth. "People!" he called out unhappily, interrupting Brennan who was just about to reply to the student, oblivious to her boss' irritation . "Dr. Brennan is an accomplished forensic Anthropologist who writes books _on the side_," he stressed.

Goodman who was intent on starting the Q&A all over again, hopefully with better questions from the audience, when he noticed someone standing up.

"I have a question," Booth called out, standing up and buttoning up his Armani jacket. "Regarding the role of the FBI agent in your book…Who do you based 'brilliant and insightful' Special Agent Andy Lister on?" he quoted the words critics had used to describe Kathy Reich's FBI partner.

"Oh, for God's sake," Goodman said, exasperated, rolling his eyes.

"'cuz, you know, I'm pretty sure it was me," Booth flashed a charm smile in Brennan's direction.

Brennan gave him a half-hearted glare. "What are you doing here, Booth?" she asked.

_Getting you for a case_, he replied in his mind. _And it wouldn't hurt for you to just admit I'm Andy_. For all the progress he and Brennan had made, in both their professional relationship and personal relationship, he hadn't been able to get her to admit that the FBI agent she'd wrote about in the book she'd published a few months right after working with him, was actually based on him. It was obvious, but it would still be a moment of victory for him if he could get her to admit it when she'd denied it all this while.

"We've got a case, Bones," he said instead. "Chop, chop."

Brennan bid a hasty farewell to Goodman and the students she'd just given a speech to. The students, much to her bafflement, had been more interested in catching a glimpse of 'real life Andy Lister' than the lecture itself. _They weren't going to make it in the anthropological field if they keep that up_, Brennan criticized in her mind.

"Local police got an anonymous call saying there were human remains in a field behind a mall out in the suburbs," Booth filled Brennan in as he walked her out of the lecture hall.

"I did an anthropological profile of the suburbs as a grad student," Brennan supplied in one of her 'I've-got-an-anthropology-fun-fact-for-you' moments. "The whole notion of a created community, a modern Utopia with its own mores and rules…It's fascinating.

Booth snorted derisively. "Fascinating to who?" he asked sarcastically, not really expecting an answer but knowing his literal partner might just give him one anyway.

"Fascinating to whom," Brennan corrected.

"To whom," he repeated, just as they approached Brennan's car in the parking lot. He had been expecting to see her black Jeep, but was shocked when she pulled out a set of keys and pressed a button, causing this tiny little silver sports car to let out a beep to allow Brennan to touch it without alerting the car alarm.

Booth laughed a little. _Whoa, seriously_! "You've _got_ to be kidding me," he muttered.

Brennan positively glowed as she turned to look at him. "What? My publishers gave it to me," she defended.

"Gave it to you?" _Ah, damn. On one hand, she didn't go on a spree and buy herself a new car. On the other, she's gotta be rakin' in enough dough for her publishers that a car is the equivalent as a muffin basket…Which is worse?_

Brennan nodded. "Book sales are good," she said as they both stood on the sidewalk just staring at the silver sporty car. "It's supposed to be a nice car."

"_Gave_ it to you?" he repeated incredulously.

Brennan nodded once more, turning to give him a frown. "Yeah," she answered. She wasn't quite sure why he sounded so upset by this. It was just a gift from her publishers, to show their gratitude for how her novel had been such a success.

Booth blinked once then turned away from her, doing something he knew was a pretty cruel trick. "Well, why'd you park crooked?" he asked, trying to keep the smile from his face.

Brennan shrugged, "Well, the guy said to always park it like that."

He shook his head to disagree. "He's wrong. It makes you look like an idiot."

This didn't deter Brennan in the slightest. Instead, she gave him an excited look. "How about I drive for once?" she offered.

Booth shook his head. "No," he shot her suggestion down immediately. "I cannot show up at a crime scene in that."

"Why?" she looked truly confused.

"Because," he said stubbornly, sounding like a five-year-old. I don't want to be the gold digging louse who lives off of his woman's money, even if they don't know you're my woman. Choosing not to say that out loud, since he was more than likely to get a knee to the groin and a lecture about the anthropological significance of men putting a claim on the women they courted as she forcefully loaded him into her tiny car if he did, he said instead, "It would detract from the gravity of my FBI presence, especially if you parked crooked."

Brennan didn't quite understand any of that, but dismissed it silently as she moved on to the next topic, moving to her car to put in her things before following Booth to his FBI-issued SUV. "Why is the FBI involved in the search for human remains behind a suburban mall?" she questioned curiously.

Booth pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "Because this boy is missing," he told her, his voice growing solemn and quiet.

Brennan glanced down at the picture of a little boy with the word 'MISSING' printed with his name and age. "Oh," her tone matched Booth's, a pang shooting through her heart at the thought of something horrible happening to someone so innocent. "A child."

"Yeah."

Their car ride over to the suburban neighborhood was spent in contemplative silence. The only acknowledgement of each other's turmoil at the thought of a case that was no doubt going to be undoubtedly difficult if the remains found were of a child, was when at a red light, Booth and Brennan reached over the console to twine their fingers together.

Booth looked straight ahead in front of him, waiting for the light to turn green, and Brennan's eyes were fixed on the darkness of the night from her passenger's side window, but their hands had moved at the same time, grasping each other's simultaneously, as though their minds had worked in synchronization. When the light had turned green, Booth had given her hand a small squeeze before they ceased physical contact, her eyes still facing away from him.

The lot behind the suburban mall was crowded with police force - there were several police cruisers parked behind the yellow tape, and lights had been set up to give those working on the search a better view of the darkened field. Brennan caught sight of the Medico-Legal truck up ahead, no doubt driven there by one of their employed drivers to bring Zack and the equipment Brennan was going to need in the search and retrieval process.

Zack, who was leaning against the side of the truck waiting for his mentor, immediately perked up at the sight of her, hurrying over to join her and Booth.

"Bones," Booth called out as a man approached them, wearing a police uniform. "This is Captain Kyle Henning, from the police station a few blocks from here." Brennan gave Captain Henning a courteous nod of the head and a handshake.

Captain Henning, realizing that Brennan wanted to get straight down to business, matched hers and Booth's brusque pace. "Anonymous call came in a couple of hours ago," he informed the crime-fighting pair. "No sign of him yet."

"How do you know it wasn't a prank?" Booth asked sharply. He wasn't in the mood to play around if this was a part of some kind of sick teenage hazing. Not when there was an actual child out there, missing and possibly hurt or worse…

He was brought back to the present when Captain Henning held up a tape recorder. Clicking the 'play' button, the tape rewound and played the 911 call that had been recorded. "You have to come right away," said a voice, so obviously the voice of a teenaged girl. A very frantic, very panicked teenaged girl. "There's a dead kid here all rotted away He's in a field behind Clayton Hills Mall. You better come."

Captain Henning clicked the 'off' button, stopping the tape, and stopped to face Brennan, Booth and Zack, wearing a somber expression on his face.

"That rings true," Booth conceded on an aggrieved sigh.

"Why anonymous?" Brennan questioned.

Captain Henning shrugged. "Kids come here to party…Misbehave," he explained.

Brennan nodded in understanding. "Adolescents and pre-adolescents tend to seek out their own space, to establish their own society, to counter parental influence," she spoke knowingly. Not only had she done the same thing as a teenager - for a short while when her parents were around, and after they were gone just to spite some of her foster parents - she had two pre-adolescents at home. She was more than familiar with teenagers lashing out behavior-wise.

Captain Henning gave Brennan a long, curious stare. He had been a little taken aback to hear that the beautiful, famous author was going to be lending her hand in the search and find. Of course, he knew that she was an anthropologist first, but he'd come to learn of her from her book so it was hard not to think of her as an author first. "You mind if I make an observation?" he blurted out to Brennan.

"No, of course not."

"In your book…The cops come off as very one dimensional," he noted, frowning as he recalled the only thing that had bothered him when he had read her novel. "Why is that?"

Brennan unintentionally answered his question when she corrected him, "You mean 'two dimensional'."

As her ever loyal sidekick, Zack added, "One dimensionality exists only in theory as a mathematical value."

Captain Henning nodded slowly. "Okay…" he commented wryly. "Really looking forward to your next book," he said sincerely, moving away from the trio.

Once the captain was gone, Brennan stopped walking, turning to face Zack. "Did you bring the thermal imager?" she asked him seriously.

Zack grimaced. Deciding to take a chance, he answered quickly, innocently, "I don't think we need it." Brennan glared at her assistant, causing him to relent, "It makes me look like the Great Gazoo."

He sounded a little like a sulky little boy, just like Zan when Brennan told him it was time for bed or when Brennan enforced the 'play time's over' rule to Tri. She shook her head. A graduate student of Zack's caliber should not be complaining about trivial things like how they looked like when wearing a thermal imager.

"Okay, I don't know what that means," she said, referring to his 'Great Gazoo' reference. "But we definitely need it, Zack."

Zack, defeated and more than slightly put out, placed the forensics case he was carrying on the ground, bowing his head and heading back to the Medico-Legal truck to retrieve the suit.

As Zack put more and more distance between them, Booth turned to Brennan. "Do you think we're gonna find that little boy tonight?" he asked her seriously. She could see in his eyes just how much it would kill him if they did.

Brennan wondered why he was so clearly affected. Of course, everyone should be when it was a case involving a child. Anyone who had an ounce of humanity should be affected by it, but Booth…There was something different. Something more. She couldn't quite place it.

She answered honestly, as she always did. "I don't know, Booth," she replied. Booth nodded once at her answer, looking away. Brennan, without thinking, reached out to take his hand. "But if we do…" He flinched a little at that. "If we do…That little boy's going to have the best searching for answers, giving him justice."

He sighed, squeezing her hand in thanks, but continued frowning. "I know he is," he murmured softly. "But that's not really enough, Bones. Not if he's already dead. He's so young…"

They heard footsteps approaching and quickly retracted their hands from each other. One look at his girlfriend's geeky assistant put a small smile on his face. Choosing to hold onto the lightheartedness for the time being, and let go of the darkness as much as he could, he laughed at the outfit Zack was wearing - sort of like an astronaut's suit.

"How's it going there, Darth?" Booth joked, chuckling, as Zack's covered-by-weird-looking-suit head turned his way. "Seen anything on Saturn?"

Brennan stepped up next to Booth, looking unimpressed by his teasing. "Ah, please tell me you've seen at least one Star Wars movie," Booth pleaded. He had already lost count of the number of movies he'd made a mental note to watch with her so that she could catch up on some sense of normalcy.

"When I was seven," Brennan answered, making him feel just a tad relieved. "And leave Zack alone."

"Can we please hurry up?" came Zack's muffled voice from inside the suit. "It's stuffy in here."

The three of them turned and headed for the field behind the mall, with Zack leading as he used the thermal imager to guide him in his search. "I should be able to see any heat residue released from decomposing bodies," he said, mainly for Booth's benefit since he knew the FBI agent had no idea what a thermal imager was.

As they walked together, they noticed that the field was littered with all sorts of garbage - plastic bags and broken bottles and empty wrappings. "Party central," Booth commented, remembering what Captain Henning had said earlier about kids coming out here to fraternize.

"Because suburbs are so homogeneous," Brennan immediately launched into an anthropological diatribe. "Adolescents tend to rebel in predictable and uniformed ways. Fire, illicit substances, wayward behavior…" she trailed off, listing off several probabilities.

"Do you think that 'wayward behavior' would include abducting a six year old child?" Booth asked, a little sarcastic.

"That's pretty extreme," Brennan answered him anyway. "Adolescents are more likely to drink alcohol and listen to culturally inappropriate music at high volume." _I know Wyatt's been doing more and more of that lately_, she thought with a weary sigh.

"I'm picking something up," Zack interrupted them, his heart beating faster when he could detect heat waves in oranges, greens and reds thanks to the thermal imager. "Oh, my God," he breathed, seeing that the heat waves seemed to be coming from a rather small body.

"What? Why'd you stop?" Booth asked impatiently.

Zack took off his helmet, ignoring Booth's questions directly. "You can turn on your flashlight," he said to Brennan, walking over towards the bush he'd caught the heat waves coming from. "Aim it over here."

Brennan did as Zack asked, clicking on her flashlight and aiming it over at the bush, the light from the torch shining over a pile of human remains. Brennan drew back a breath as she realized that, at first glance, the skeleton belonged to that of a small child. The body was badly rotten away, with maggots crawling all over its face, the bones tinged pink from where the child's flesh used to be.

"Call off the search," Brennan told Booth in a firm but soft voice, stubborn enough to keep her voice from trembling despite how shaken she was. "We found our body."

BBBBBBB

The team was taking a short, well deserved break from the case, all of the squints congregated in Brennan's office after Brennan had called Booth to inform him of their positive identification of the human remains they'd found.

Dr. Goodman had told them all earlier to take a break as soon as they possibly could as he had something very important to discuss with them all. Goodman, who had strolled in not a minute after they had entered the office, was now holding the floor, a stack of square envelopes in his hands.

"These," Dr. Goodman said, handing out the invitations one by one. "Are invitations to a banquet."

"You called a special meeting to invite us to a party?" Brennan asked incredulously, staring at the man she respected enough but would never outwardly admit as her 'boss' since she never really did well with authority figures.

"Don't think of it as an invitation," Goodman corrected Brennan in a firm drawl. "Consider it a summons." At the less than pleased looks he was receiving, he admitted begrudgingly, "It's for the donors."

Hodgins was looking on disapprovingly as he shook his head. "Meet and greet the press, press the flesh, butt kiss…" he trailed off knowingly, rebellion screaming clear in his eyes.

"I don't like it anymore than you do," Goodman soothed. "But these people fund our research and all they want in return is to rub elbows with a scientist once in a while."

"Can't make it," Hodgins said curtly.

"Yeah, me neither," Brennan followed in his lead.

"I have a date that night," Angela smiled at Goodman, hoping to win him over with her charm.

Goodman stared at them unblinkingly. "You don't even know when it is," he pointed out flatly. Zack, stuck in the student persona, raised his hand. Goodman nodded at him. "Yes, Mr. Addy?

Zack lowered his hand. "What kind of food will there be?" he asked, as though the type of hors d'eouvres served would determine if he would attend the gala or not.

Goodman took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "When I said you should think of this invitation as a summons I understated it," he said finally, in his deep baritone voice that just screamed 'I'm in charge so shut up and listen'. "It's a subpoena. A grand jury subpoena. Ignore it at your own peril."

Brennan stared at him incredulously. "You're not going to fire us if we don't go?" she asked, aghast.

He shook his head slightly. "No, not fire you," he conceded. "But I _can_ move your parking spots to Lot M. Enjoy the shuttle ride."

"The shuttle smells like feet," Zack blurted out, eyes wide.

Brennan pursed her lips in consideration before rocking back on her heels, defeated. "I know when I'm beat," she sighed. "I'm in."

Angela, conceding now that her best friend had as well, nodded and gave Goodman a small smile. "What the hell - it's a party," she said in her usual 'live life to its fullest' attitude.

"Do I have to wear a tie?" Zack frowned.

Hodgins, who was less than impressed with his colleagues' quick submission, shook his head defiantly even as Goodman answered Zack's question and informed the others that he had already booked a limo for the event. "Not me," he stated stubbornly. "I'm not afraid of parking or feet."

"Wait, you drive me to work," Zack reminded Hodgins, voice verging on panic. "You can't just think of yourself."

Goodman, backing up Zack's statement somewhat, said, "Repercussions and consequences, Dr. Hodgins. I'm your boss and you _will_ go to this banquet."

With those cheerful parting words, Goodman left the office, leaving the squint squad on their own once more. Hodgins watched him leave, a throbbing greenish vein popping up on his forehead as he scowled, drawing his arm to his chest and grabbing at a rubber band around his wrist, snapping it against his skin repeatedly.

Later, as Brennan had called Booth to the Jeffersonian once Angela had managed to scrounge something up from the grainy security tapes, the three of them congregated in Angela's office, surrounding her computer as she showed them what she had been able to retrieve.

"There are twenty surveillance cameras taking stills every two seconds throughout the mall, including access corridors and parking lots," Angela informed Booth and Brennan. "I concentrated on the ones aimed at the public concourse."

"Okay…Ten thousand people a day go through that mall," he pointed out. "How are we going to find one small kid?"

And even though this was a serious case with somber tones, Brennan couldn't help the pride in her voice or the small smirk across her face as she replied. "Angela designed a mass recognition program to apply body types to skeletal remains," she informed her partner.

"Endomorph, Ectomorph, Mesomorph," she nodded absentmindedly, filling in what Brennan hadn't said. "That sort of thing. I modified it to scan two dimensional images. In this case, we're looking for body masses roughly congruent with Charlie, Shawn and David…"

Her sharp eyes caught their victim's older brother. "There's David."

Booth eyed her with bemusement. "You're actually one of them, aren't you?" he questioned rhetorically.

"One of who?" Angela asked, her eyebrows furrowing together.

"A squint," Booth clarified. "I mean, you _look_ normal, and you _act_ normal, but you're actually one of them."

Angela shook her head, an awkward laugh bubbling from her lips. "This whole mass recognition program was Brennan's idea. I'm completely normal," she defended herself. Seeing Booth's disbelieving look, she added, "Really."

"Yeah, maybe before you got this job, but now…" he trailed off, shaking his head teasingly at her.

"I see Charlie," Brennan interrupted, pointing to the screen, her calculating blue eyes fixed on the stills even as her two co-workers had bantered.

Just as Brennan had blurted out the words, the mass recognition kicked in, the computer automatically highlighting Charlie in green squares. The mass recognition program continued to track Charlie's movements throughout the mall through the stills, Angela clicking on the computer to confirm that this was the target they were looking for.

"Whoa, that's him alright," Booth was torn between surprise and awe that the mass recognition program had worked, and sadness that they were seeing this little boy in his last moments alive. His despair had made his voice grow soft. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Brennan's hand twitch a little. It made him feel better that she was resisting the urge to reach out to him, whether be it for his sake or for hers. His hand slipped towards her back instead, knowing it was less conspicuous that way, and took its place at the small of her back. He could feel her grow less tense at his small gesture.

"Oh, God," Angela murmured, her big brown eyes tearing up slightly as she watched the stills of the little boy.

"Ange, are you okay?" Brennan asked quietly, looking sideways towards her friend.

"These are probably the last pictures of this little…" She paused, swallowing hard. "Guy alive. Why is he alone? Why isn't anyone with him?"

Her voice cracked a little at the end, and Brennan reached out to place her hand over Angela's, offering what little comfort she could. She had never been good with words, not even now with four progenies under her belt.

Angela sighed, throwing Brennan a look. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I know you understand this. I know how hard it is for you, especially, when cases with kids…"

Brennan cleared her throat, shooting Angela a warning look that Angela seemed to understand immediately. Her eyes widened and she blinked rapidly a few times. "Uh, I mean…The max resolution is 640 by 480 pixels per square inch," she launched back into the technology jumble, successfully diverted from the grieve she had been feeling for little Charlie Sanders just moments ago.

Booth stared at the two women in confusion. Why had Angela said that Brennan would be the most upset about cases involving little kids? Had something happened when she was younger? He hadn't seen anything in her suspiciously thin file other than that her parents had disappeared on her when she was fifteen. Other information on her had either been highly classified or never been uncovered. He had no idea how that came about, but he knew that Brennan had connections to the military - the work that she did was highly in demand and he had seen enough overseas to know that she would've been asked to identify plenty of bodies by the military, bodies that were too damaged to be identified by normal means. Maybe that was how her file was so…Unsatisfying.

His mouth was opened, about to question Angela's words and her abrupt change of subject, when he caught sight of something on the computer. He leaned forward slightly. "Ah, wait," he said aloud. "He's _not_ alone. Someone's calling him over."

He couldn't catch whomever it was on the stills, their face and body hidden except for their legs and feet. "Can't you just zoom in?" he asked Angela, frustrated, when a few stills went by with nothing concrete that he could use.

Angela shook her head. "The fewer pixels that make up an image, the more the picture degrades once we zoom in on it," she shot down Booth's idea. She paused, a furrow appearing between her eyebrows. "Did that sound too squinty?"

"Any way to enhance it?" Brennan asked, ignoring Angela's off-topic question.

"I wouldn't bet a date with Colin Farrell on it," Angela quipped.

"I know him," Brennan said, gaze still fixed on the computer screen. "He's funny."

"Funny is Will Farrell, sweetie," Angela corrected her patiently. "_Hot_ is Colin Farrell."

Booth, who had seen enough of the less than revealing stills, said, "Alright, look, the kid is definitely moving towards someone. Alright, he wasn't struggling…He wasn't trying to get away." _That means that he knew whomever it was that had called him - maybe even whomever it was that had killed him, or had at least seen him alive last_. "You know, I want to add, uh, the neighborhood kid, Skyler Nelson, as a suspect," Booth said, remembering the way Skyler had looked into the Sanders' house through the window from the outside when Booth had been there talking to Shawn and David.

"I have one other angle but our bad guy is still obstructed in it," Angela told them, fingers clicking across her keyboard as she showed Booth and Brennan the stills from the angle she'd been talking about.

Booth, staring despondently at the screen, taking in the feet of Charlie's mystery companion. "Who the hell are you?" he mused out loud.

BBBBBBB

Angela had disappeared on Brennan, coming up with a hasty excuse to leave her own office, right after they had looked through the stills of Charlie Sanders at the mall. Booth had holed himself in Brennan's office, making calls to respective contacts at the bureau to see if they could find something more on Charlie's mystery companion.

Brennan, having nothing to do after giving Zack the assignment to look at Charlie's bones for any anomalies that she might've missed, went looking for her friend. She didn't have to look far - Angela was sitting at the break area, sitting on her favorite couch.

Brennan, as always, went with a direct approach. "Are you thinking of leaving the Jeffersonian?" she asked Angela as she neared her friend.

Angela was quiet for a few moments. "I'm not really this person," she said finally, not really answering Brennan's question.

Brennan frowned at her, sinking down in her seat. "What person?"

"I'm not like you," Angela tried again. "I'm not…Driven by the need for justice and wanting to make the world a safer place for little ones I don't have and all that. I'm a good time girl."

"We have good times," Brennan rushed to remind Angela. Although she was a grown woman and had worked plenty of places without her best friend, the Jeffersonian was home. And she had come to relate the word 'home' with a few people. Angela, being one of those people.

Angela tilted her head to the side, shooting Brennan an exasperated look. "Cracking jokes over murdered skeletons is not good times," she chided gently.

Brennan paused, pursing her lips in trying to find a better way to comfort her friend. "I know it's harder on you than it is for the rest of us," she said finally, not sure if that was assuring or not.

"No, it's not," Angela defended immediately. She paused before wondering out loud, "Why?"

"Because you look at their faces," Brennan replied immediately. She had often wondered, especially when they identified the remains of children or of a particularly brutal murder, if Angela wasn't feeling terrible because of it. For her, she only had to see their bones. Her job required her to see them without flesh, to think of them as nothing more than bones. It was easy to compartmentalize. But Angela…With the murder scenarios and constructing facial recognition through the Angelator…She could understand how it would be hard for her friend.

Preparing herself to give an, in her point of view, uplifting speech like she sometimes did, she sucked in a deep breath, "We look at everything else. It's more clinical for us. For you…It's personal."

Seeing that Angela was still looking down, she continued, "When we see a murdered child…"

Angela cut her off with a shake of the head. "Honey…I'm…No offense, I'm really not up for one of your 'it takes a village' anthropology lessons," Angela said apologetically. She sighed and paused for a moment. "This is the longest I have ever had a job. That's because of you," she admitted.

Brennan knew that. She'd known Angela for a long time, knew that the artist in her had a flighty spirit and that the only reason why she chose to continue working at the Jeffersonian wasn't because of the money but because Brennan worked there, too. Something about sisters in solidarity.

"If this is about hours or time to do your own art, then…" Brennan trailed off, knowing that Angela would get that she was referring to giving Angela more time to work on her own art if she desired it.

"Just let me work on it, okay?" Angela pleaded. "I'm an artist. I used to draw naked guys. Now I draw…Dead guys." She sighed despondently.

Brennan matched her sigh. "Just…Don't decide anything without talking to me," she beseeched.

"Of course I won't," Angela leaned back with another heavy sigh. She blinked a few times and shook her head as though to clear it. "Look, this conversation is getting a little too dark for my taste. Let's talk about something else for a while."

"Like what?" Brennan inquired, raising her eyebrow as Angela shifted on the couch, arm on the headrest and one leg folded underneath her as she angled her body towards Brennan. She looked like she did whenever she was about to pry into Brennan's personal life, an eager smile on her lips. She could still see the sadness in Angela's eyes, however, so she allowed it this time.

"Like…"Angela trailed off, pretending to think. "That hunky FBI muscle in your office and whether or not you're going to ask him to be your date to the gala?"

Brennan fought to tamp down the blush that was threatening to rise to her cheeks. "Angela!" she protested.

Angela giggled girlishly, delighted. "Oh, come on!" she rolled her eyes. "Even the blind could see you two are so damn hot for each other."

_I thought we were doing a good job of hiding our attraction to one another around the others_? Brennan frowned to herself. Choosing to ignore Angela's comment, she said instead, "We usually go to these things together."

"Yeah, but that was so we could flirt and maybe find some hot young rich stud," Angela pointed out. "Not that there are many of those at these things."

Angela sighed and rolled her eyes, then perked right up as she turned back to her best friend, "But now you have Booth. You should totally invite him."

"No, Booth isn't rich," Brennan automatically corrected her friend.

Angela gave Brennan a patient look as she reached for her hand. "No, but you don't care about money," she reminded Brennan. "And he's two out of three, so that's pretty great."

Brennan shook her head. "Look, Ange…It'll be weird," she insisted. "Booth and I are partners. We work together. We can't go to this banquet together. People are going to think we're together or something."

Angela gave her a wolfish grin and wagged her eyebrow suggestively. "Ooh, and that'd be a _bad_ thing?" she prompted.

Brennan shot a stern look at Angela. "Yes, Angela, of course that would be a bad thing!" she said in exasperation. Deciding to throw in a little something extra, she played up her role, "Besides…Booth and I hardly get along on a day to day basis as it is. There's no need to aggravate each other further by going to a social function together as well."

Angela sighed again, this time in defeat. She could remember, after the first time Booth and Brennan had worked together, how Brennan had come to her to rant about how much of an arrogant imbecile Booth was. While she thought the partners' views on each other had grown better, it obviously wasn't much considering they were both clashing on everything while they worked and they were both still so damn _blind_ about the sexual tension radiating off of each other.

"Alright, alright," she conceded. "You don't have to ask Booth. We'll go just the two of us."

Brennan nodded, trying not to show just how relieved she was that Angela had given in and hadn't even gotten suspicious about Booth and Brennan's relationship. _I've got to tell Booth about my lying skills improving_, she thought excitedly.

"Bones!"

Both Angela and Brennan turned their heads to see Booth approaching them, quickly hurrying up the steps to the lounge area.

"Ooh, speak of the devil," Angela crooned, eyes raking over Booth appreciatively.

Brennan found herself overcome with a bout of irrational jealousy. She knew Angela would never romantically link herself to Booth, not when she had it in her head that Booth and Brennan belonged together. She would, at the very least, ask Brennan first if she wanted to make a move. And Brennan knew that Booth wasn't the sort of man to mess around with the best friend of the woman he was sleeping with. Still, jealousy coursed through her veins as Angela flashed Booth a wide, flirty grin as he approached the two of them.

"I don't know what that means," she told Angela in a monotonous voice, her face carefully blank.

Angela didn't get a chance to reply because Booth was suddenly in front of them. "C'mon, Bones, chop, chop," he clapped his hands together once and rubbed his palms together. "Your nerdy assistant told me he found something."

Brennan glared at Booth even as she rose from her seat. "Booth!" she chided. "Don't call him that!"

He shrugged, all wide-eyed and innocent. "Well, I didn't say it to his face!" he defended.

She shook her head, allowing him to place his hand on the small of her back, leading her down the stairs he'd just came up and towards bone storage, where Charlie's remains were at the moment.

"So what were you and Angela talking about?" Booth asked as they descended the stairs. "Were you talking about me?"

Brennan rolled her eyes at the smug grin and the pleased look on his face. "Such a big ego," she muttered.

"Well, come on, that was a pretty big smile she had for me," Booth urged. She threw him a glare, which he seemed to understand without words. "Oh, what, no…C'mon, Bones, you know I don't feel that way about Angela," he soothed.

She shrugged. "Why not?" she asked, choosing to adopt a logical tone and frame of mind for this particularly unpleasant line of questioning. "Angela is a very attractive female, Booth. She has all the markers of someone who would be of great sexual appeal for you-"

"Whoa, whoa, what!" Booth reeled his back, staring at his girlfriend, horrified. "No, Bones, okay! Look, Angela…Is very pretty, yes, but she's not the one I'm attracted to. You're the only woman I want, okay?"

She shrugged once more, dismissing their conversation by jumping into another topic. "We were talking about the banquet," she replied to his earlier question.

Booth's brows furrowed together in confusion. "You and Angela?" he asked. At her nod, he relaxed slightly, knowing that her ridiculous questions about his non-existent attraction to her best friend were over. "What banquet?"

"The one Goodman said was mandatory for all of us," she said distractedly as they walked towards bone storage. Her mind was still swirling around Angela's distress over her job and how horrific it could be at times. "She wanted me to invite you as my date."

"Huh. Really?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. I told her I wouldn't because we irritate each other enough at work and there was reason to invite you out to a social setting as well," she replied bluntly, honestly.

He looked a little taken aback by her response, drawing his hand away from her back. "Gee, thanks, Bones," he said sarcastically, a scowl forming on his lips. "Didn't know you felt so strongly about me."

"I do," she said, sounding surprised. She stopped walking and turned to face him, Booth doing the same thing. "I care for you deeply…I thought you knew that?"

"I meant…" He sighed, taking a deep breath and starting over. "What you said to Angela, Bones. Did you mean that?"

"Oh," she blinked a few times. "No. I was annoyed by you the first time we worked together and couldn't agree on anything…I just used that as a base of the lie I told her. Even now, we don't always see eye to eye when we work together on a case."

She bit her lip, suddenly self-conscious and unsure. "Did you…Did you not want me to tell her that?" she asked, looking up at him through big, earnest blue eyes. "I just figured that a setting like that would be too intimate, especially surrounded by our co-workers. They might catch on to our relationship if we went together."

He smiled softly at her. "So you…Don't think I'm annoying anymore?" he asked teasingly.

"No, you still are at times," she replied honestly. "Especially when you won't admit that I'm right."

He barked out a laugh. "Well, that's because I'm the one that's usually right," he retorted playfully. He placed his hand on her back once more. "But good call, Bones," he praised her with a smile. "I think they'd be suspicious if we went together, too."

"I'm surprised she bought my lie, though," Brennan told him, getting excited as they continued on their way to bone storage. "I must be getting better at lying!"

"Uh-huh," he said disbelievingly, knowing that she was the worst liar to have ever lived. "Or…She just assumed that when we bicker, we actually fight. It's an easy mistake to make from an outsider's point of view."

Brennan frowned at him before shaking her head. "No, no, I'm pretty sure I'm getting better at lying," she insisted.

He hid an indulgent smile. "Sure, Bones. Whatever you say," he said, thankful when she didn't pick up on his sarcastic tone.

They walked on in silence for a few more minutes before Brennan spoke up about what had been bothering her for a while now. "I'm afraid Angela might quit," she blurted out.

Booth scoffed. "I'm amazed she stuck it out this long," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Well, because she's human," Booth shrugged nonchalantly. At Brennan's half insulted, half curious look, he added, "I'm sorry, Bones, it's just that…You know." He sighed. _It's so hard saying this without offending her_, he thought to himself. "Angela didn't get the same training the rest of you got on, uh, planet Vulcan."

"I don't know what that means."

_Shocker_, he thought wryly as he and Brennan entered bone storage. They walked up to the examination table Zack was seated at, with Charlie's small bones laid out on top of the lit autopsy table.

"She's more sensitive," Booth offered.

"Who's more sensitive?" Zack asked.

"Angela," Brennan replied for Booth.

"She likes puppies and kitties and ducklings and, you know…Jell-O shots and, you know, dancing on bars…" Booth listed off, grinning as he mimicked dancing while humming some ridiculous tune.

Brennan gave him a look like she thought he was either mentally challenged or being cute when he wasn't supposed to. "I know that. She's my best friend," she sounded defensive about it, like she was offended he didn't think she knew her best friend well enough to know these things. "Angela is not the only person in the world who likes baby animals."

"I never got the big attraction," Zack admitted, eyes and hands still busy with a particular bone.

Booth raised both eyebrows and gave Brennan a knowing look. "I rest my case - she's more sensitive," he told her quietly.

She scowled at him, crossing her arms across her chest. "Well, just because I'm not big on crying in public or just because I have seen enough and experienced enough to have trained myself to compartmentalize when something as horrible as what happened to Charlie Sanders comes across our radar doesn't mean that I'm not sensitive," she snapped at him. She paused for a moment before adding, "And I'll have you know that I have a new puppy at home."

She had three dogs, actually. One was a Bichon Frise puppy, only eight months old, that Zan and Demetri had gotten as a shared present about four months ago. Wyatt had a Golden Retriever he had gotten about two years ago when the adorable, overtly friendly dog had only been a small puppy. He'd named the retriever 'Sammy' for the Samoyed he had intended to get - he'd 'fallen in love' with Sammy at the pet store instead. Recently, feeling left out now that all her brothers had pets and not wanting to share, Rose had asked for a puppy herself. They had gone to the shelter where she had found a just-born Japanese Spitz she had named 'Baby'. Baby's mother had been abandoned by her owner so she had been a street dog, starved and pregnant, until animal control had stepped in, saved her and brought her to the shelter. Baby's mother hadn't survived, and neither had three of Baby's siblings. Once Baby had been strong and healthy enough, Rose had been allowed to adopt Baby and bring her home.

Booth's eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise. "You_ do_!" The combined shock of hearing even the tiniest tidbit of Brennan's home life - something she never shared, even with him - and hearing that she actually had a pet made him sound so completely incredulous about it.

She gave him a defensive look. "Yes, I do," she raised her chin defiantly. "Why, does that strike you as so odd? Like I don't have the capabilities to care for a living being?"

"Wha…No, no, that's not it," he hastily assured her. "I just…Where do you even find the time to take care of a new puppy?"

Before she could answer, Zack spoke without thinking, "I assume that Rose cares for the puppy since she was the one who wanted one."

Booth shook his head confusedly. "Wait - who's Rose?"

"Just someone I live with," Brennan replied hurriedly, ignoring the apologetic look Zack sent her way before focusing on the bone in his hands once more.

Booth quirked a small smile. "First a puppy, now a roommate…What else are you keeping from me, Bones?" he asked jokingly.

Instead of answering him, Brennan walked around the autopsy table to stand next to Zack. "Tell Booth what we've discovered, Zack," she instructed him.

He nodded, "We cross referenced the length and density of Charlie's leg bones with other children his age." Brennan shot him a glare, causing him to backtrack quickly. "The victim, I mean," he corrected himself. Noticing the look Booth sent him, he explained what Brennan had taught him earlier. "The thing to do is concentrate on the details."

Brennan gave Booth a quick, sideways glance, to silently warm him not to tease Zack. If this was the way Zack could compartmentalize, then so be it. She herself found it a useful technique.

With Zack's words, the gloom returned to the three of them, detracting them from their previous easygoing banter on Brennan's 'roommate's' new puppy.

"Let's do that," Booth said solemnly, clearing his throat to push down the lump that had formed there at the thought of little Charlie Sanders.

"We found some abnormalities," Brennan informed him of her findings with Zack before she'd gone off to find Angela. "They're bowed and abnormally short."

"Also, the victim's bones show freezing of the joints at the hip and knee," Zack added helpfully.

Booth stared confusedly at the two geniuses. "Are you saying that Charlie was crippled?" he demanded.

"_The victim_," Brennan stressed. "Was disabled, yes."

"His mother never mentioned that," Booth murmured suspiciously.

Zack picked up a rib bone to show Booth. "The ribs are broken in two places, which is not typical of blunt force trauma," he told his mentor.

"How do you explain that?" Brennan questioned, prompting him further.

He shrugged, wide-eyed at the thought of getting a question wrong. "I attributed it to his medical condition and the corresponding brittleness of his bones," he answered her.

"I agree," she pursed her lips, nodding. "What is that condition?"

"It looks like scoliosis; a bend in the spine."

Brennan, who had caught something on the x-ray board lit up a few feet from them, walked over, her sharp eyes focused and squinting as she drew closer to the x-rays. "I think it's more than that, Zack," she disputed. "There are…Multiple calcified lesions on the posterior thoracic vertebrae. That, plus Charlie's short stature and the asymmetric length of his legs…"

She turned around, dropping a bomb on Booth when Zack simply nodded along, an awed but unsurprised look on his face when she spoke next. "Margaret Sanders may not be Charlie's biological mother."

Booth started, his body jerking forward slightly in shock. "What?"

Brennan didn't seem to hear him as she gave her grad student his newest assignment, eager at the possibility of having found something new to go on, a fresh lead on the case. "Test the bones for x-link type of Phosphatemia and Coffin Larry syndrome," she ordered.

Booth shook his hand, waving his hand in a dramatic gesture. "Whoa, whoa, okay…Hold on," he interrupted, causing both Zack and Brennan to look over at him. "Simmer down. Just back up to the part where she's not his mother."

"Dr. Brennan is having me check for hereditary genetic defects which are always passed from mother to child," he simplified Brennan's earlier words.

Brennan nodded in agreement with what Zack had said. "If Charlie had one, then Margaret Sanders is not his mother," she finished, stunning Booth to silence.

When Brennan's suspicions of Charlie's condition had been confirmed, Brennan and Booth had been forced to bring Margaret Sanders in to question her about their findings. Despite the fact that she had lied about Charlie being her biological child, Brennan knew, just by being in the same room as her, just by looking at her and seeing her grief over Charlie's death, that she was a good person. She was the kind of foster mother Brennan only wished she'd had when she was in the system herself.

Unfortunately, Booth hadn't seen it that way.

After Margaret had confessed to Charlie not being her son in terms of flesh and blood, he had, in Brennan's opinion, unfairly put her in handcuffs and had one of his agents take her away.

Now, twenty minutes later, as they walked down the FBI bullpen towards Booth's office, they were still arguing in a roundabout manner about his actions.

"I had to arrest her," Booth insisted.

"The story checked out - the overdose," Brennan pointed out. One of Booth's agents had done a background check on Charlie's biological mother, Janine Downey, and the way she had died even as Brennan and Booth had been interrogating her. They had gotten the information barely five minutes after getting out of the interrogation room.

"She confessed to kidnapping," he retorted.

She stared at him incredulously. "What? Margaret Sanders did nothing more than respond to the anthropological imperative," she defended fiercely. "She saw an orphan and reacted."

The two of them entered Booth's office, still arguing loudly. Booth's assistant, sitting out front, shuddered as he saw the angry look in Dr. Brennan's eyes - he did not want to be the one to be confronted with Brennan's ire. He silently prayed for Booth.

Booth, on the other hand, was an alpha male. An extremely strong alpha male who had no problems whatsoever going head to head with Brennan. "This is not a National Geographic study, okay?" he snarked, causing a dark look to cross her features. "This is the suburbs."

She ignored his snub and pointed out the obvious instead. "Why would she kill the boy? She obviously loved him."

"There are situations, alright? The kid gets sick, he doesn't turn out to be the way that she wanted," he shook his head. "I bet that you could give me a dozen examples of societies that have killed their own young."

He was right. Of course he was right. Killing the young, even if they were biologically related to you, wasn't something that was uncommon. As an anthropologist, Brennan had seen many, many examples of just that.

But it didn't mean that Margaret Sanders had killed Charlie.

"What about Shawn and David Cook?" she demanded angrily. "Where do they go now?"

"Back into the system."

It angered her, absolutely _infuriated_ her, that he could've said that so cavalierly. Like it didn't matter a damn bit to him that the lives of those two boys were going to change drastically and go downhill from here on out, all the way until they were at least eighteen. That was even if they managed to stay on track long enough to change their lives once they were legal. She had seen many foster kids who couldn't. Who was to say Shawn and David weren't like them? Who was to say they weren't just going to disappear into nothingness if they were snatched from a loving home with Margaret and thrown into the cruelty of the foster system?

"Do you have any idea of how bad the foster care system is?" she asked him, anger and frustration leaking into her voice.

"Do _you_?" he snapped back, his tensed body turning around so he could glare at her. "What do you want to do? Hmm? Do you want to kidnap them the way she kidnapped Charlie?" he demanded, his tone matching hers.

She shook her head, persisting. "I want you to let them go home to Margaret Sanders," she answered honestly.

And even though she knew Booth would probably say no to that, she couldn't help feeling absolutely helpless and upset when he answered firmly, "It's not going to happen."

Throwing him a dirty look that conveyed just how disappointed and upset she was at him, she turned on her heel and stormed out of his office.

BBBBBBB

Brennan was sitting in her office, trying to get her mind off of how annoyed she was with Booth. She had returned to the lab a couple of hours ago, instructing Angela and Zack to go through the security stills once more. With Zack's expertise in technology and mechanics, maybe he could help Angela in ways Brennan and Booth couldn't. Hodgins, seeing her bad mood, had immediately told her that he was going to run through some things at the chem. lab, before rushing off, not wanting to be in her warpath.

Brennan had cooped herself up in her office since then, stewing until she'd decided to just get started on her the new book she'd felt obliged to write thanks to the ostentatious gift her publishers had given her. Writing usually gets her mind off of her work and she might need to clear her head.

She was just typing in her newest sentence, finishing up on her latest chapter, when Hodgins entered her office. "Chem. lab mass spectrometer identifies the particulates in Charlie Sanders' mouth as fluoride," he told her without being asked.

He eyed Brennan who was still staring at her computer screen, her mind working a thousand miles a minute as she worked on the new chapter of her new book. Hodgins, having been around when she'd written her first book, grinned knowingly. "I recognize that look," he said aloud, jolting her out of her concentration.

"What?"

"You're writing another book," he stated, not asked. At her questioning look, he explained, "When you write, you get this stunned look on your face like you stuck a fork in the toaster."

Walking up to the cork board on wheels, he squinted at the notes she had pinned on it. "Am I in this one, too?" he asked, scanning through the notes to look for a mention of his character's name.

"You weren't in the last one," Brennan corrected automatically. In an attempt to get Hodgins back on track for the case, she asked, "Fluoride - at what concentration?"

"It's too high for toothpaste," Hodgins murmured, his eyes still scanning the notes on the cork board.

"Put together a list of…" Brennan trailed off, realizing that he was still staring at the notes for her newest book. Irritated, she reached out to push away the board, snapping his attention back to her. "Put together a list of anything that could conceivably contain fluoride at those levels," she instructed.

"Alright," he nodded, still wearing his friendly little smirk. He gestured towards the board, "Do you have time for this?"

Rolling her eyes, she ran a hand down her face wearily. "Ugh. They gave me a car," she confided.

"Nice!" he complimented. He paused before asking, "Who?"

"My publisher," she clarified. "Now I feel like I have to earn it by writing another book."

"Fight coercion in all its forms," Hodgins advised her. "You don't write the book, I don't go to the banquet - solidarity."

Brennan smiled at the very typical Jack Hodgins-like advise she'd just been given as she watched her co-worker leave her officer. She didn't have time to get back to her writing because Booth strode into her office, a serious look on his face.

"Angela has a face for the abductor," he told her in a businesslike tone.

Brennan's eyes widened at his words. She jumped up from her seat and ran out of the office, brushing past Booth without a word to him. Booth sighed as he realized she was still angry with him about his arresting Margaret Sanders. He rolled his tired eyes around, and caught sight of the board. He leaned over slightly, reading enough to know that the notes pinned up all over it were idea for a new Kathy Reich book.

_She'd kill me if she found out I was snooping around, reading ideas of her book_, he thought warily. He was already in the dog house for arresting Margaret Sanders. Pulling back, he walked out of her office to join her in Angela's office.

When he arrived in Angela's office, Brennan and Angela were already at her computer, looking through the surveillance footage of Charlie at the mall once more.

"I looked on both cameras," Angela was saying. "This one offered up more reflective surfaces."

"Right at the door," Booth chimed in.

Angela nodded. "Check this out," she said, enhancing a certain still of Charlie and his mystery companion at the glass doors of the mall.

"The abductor's face," Booth said. Even if he couldn't see the blurry image, they were still getting somewhere. This gave him a tiny shred of hope.

Angela was doing something with her computer, the image of Charlie's abductor becoming clearer and clearer by the second, slowly coming into focus. "By polarizing the image, the computer can interpret the spaces between the white and the dark gaps and fill in the missing pieces," Angela explained to them.

The image is focused even more now. Enough to tell all three of them that the abductor was very clearly not an adult. Booth voiced this out loud.

Angela, frowning sadly at the computer screen, said, "When I re-polarize the image…"

The image becomes even clearer, showing them exactly who Charlie's mystery companion on the day of his death was.

"Shawn Cook," Booth said, stunned.

"The victim's foster brother," Brennan added, sharing a shocked look with Booth and Angela.

Booth shook his head, "Okay, this doesn't add up…I talked to the kid. He didn't seem like a child killer to me."

Brennan looked at him with wide, questioning eyes. "Are you going to have to bring him in?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Booth sighed, hanging his head and taking a moment to calm himself. This case was really getting to him and he just wanted it to be over already so he could call Parker and have some time alone with Brennan and feel better in general about having put Charlie's killer behind bars. _But what if it was Shawn_? "Yeah, Bones," he replied finally, in a quiet voice. "I'm gonna have to bring him in."

Booth whipped out his cell phone, dialing numbers he'd memorized a long time ago, to put in a call to the bureau. "Hanson," he barked into the phone. "I need you to bring in Shawn Cook for questioning. And contact Sara Johnston. We're gonna need her."

Sara Johnston, as Brennan later found out, was a juvenile prosecutor that Booth had worked with a few times before. She wasn't a new face to the bureau, having even married one of their agents a few years before. She was good at what she did, according to Booth.

Brennan stood outside the interrogation room with Sara, watching Booth question Shawn Cook through the two-way observation glass. Shawn was seated silently in the room, a child advocate opposite him and Booth next to him. Shawn was nervous, that much was obvious, and not talking at all about what had happened despite them knowing that he was present for Charlie's murder. Instead, Shawn traced his fingers through water spots on the table, his eyes staring at the metal table.

"Where were you taking Charlie, Shawn?" Booth questioned in a soft tone, his voice coming through from the speakers that allowed Brennan and Sara to hear the interrogation from the adjoining interrogation room.

Shawn was quiet for a few moments before he spoke hesitantly, "I brought him to the mall to see David."

"I know you brought him to the mall," Booth said, voice still soft in an attempt not to scare the young boy enough to clam up all over again. "But we got a picture of you leading him out of the mall."

Brennan turned to Sara, giving her a brief look before turning her gaze back to the interrogation. "Have you seen much of this kind of thing?" she asked, hoping she hadn't sounded too brash. She was just…Worried. She couldn't be out there, protecting her children at all hours of the day for every day of their lives. Shawn and Charlie were both barely even ten years of age. They were so young and yet a tragedy like this had happened. She worried if something horrible might cross the paths of her own children. Zan and Tri were the two most vulnerable in her family - they were too young to know how to protect themselves.

Sara sighed, her face drawn. "I'm a juvenile prosecutor," she said, as if that explained everything. "I _wish_ I could say kids killing kids was rare."

Brennan turned her attention back on the interrogation. "Where were you taking him, Shawn?" Booth persisted.

Shawn ignored his question, asking one of his own. "When can I talk to Margaret?"

"After you answer my question," Booth replied immediately. And even though his eyes and expression was serious, his voice convincing, Brennan knew her partner well enough to know he wasn't telling the truth.

"Can he do that?" she asked Sara incredulously. "Lie to a kid?"

"We're after a child killer, Dr. Brennan," Sara answered impassively. "If the Child Advocate in there doesn't complain, I sure as hell won't."

Brennan glared at her. "Well, what's the point of having a Child Advocate is he doesn't advocate for the child?" she retorted.

Sara gave Brennan a raised eyebrow. "I get the impression you're a little confused as to what side you're on, Dr. Brennan," she drawled wryly.

Brennan chose not to answer her or follow her sudden urge to punch Sara Johnston. Instead, she turned back to the interrogation Booth was leading. "Shawn," Booth said, standing up from where he was seated to pull a part of his shirt out of his pants. "Do you know what that is?" he asked, pointing to an obvious scar near his waist.

"A scar?" Shawn asked, his eyes flickering to the faint red line.

Booth nodded, tucking his shirt back into his pants. "Yeah. Got it, uh, when I was playing soldier with my brother Jared," he confided to the little boy.

"Did it hurt?" Shawn asked curiously.

Booth smiled slightly, perching on the edge of the table. "Yeah, it hurt," he nodded. "But it was an accident…Do you got any scars?"

Shawn, maybe feeling some sort of camaraderie with Booth, pulled up his sleeve without any hesitation. He lifted his arm slightly to show Booth the rounded scars on his arm, obviously burn marks. "My dad did it with a cigarette," he admitted quietly.

"He shouldn't have done that."

Shawn didn't answer to that. He simply pulled his sleeve down to hide the scars once more. "Margaret didn't do anything like that. I love Margaret," the boy's soft admission was enough to cause Brennan's heart to clench painfully in her chest.

"What I need to know is if Charlie had some kind of an accident," Booth said. "Shawn?" he prompted when the boy remained quiet.

"Maybe we can just take a break?" the Child Advocate cut in.

Booth ignored this, just continued to look at Shawn with a serious expression. "Shawn?" he prompted once more.

Next to Brennan, Sara shook her head, sighing. "He's not being aggressive enough," she said in frustration.

Brennan turned, angling her body towards Sara as she prepared to rip into her. "Foster kids are powerless. They're treated like garbage. You're in a position to do something about it and all you have to say is he's not being aggressive enough?" she asked, aghast, her tone conveying just how disgusted she found Sara to be.

Sara, a prosecutor, wasn't one to back down, giving Brennan a glare of her own. "Dr. Brennan, you know this boy may very well have _beaten_ a child to death with a rock?" she reminded the anthropologist.

Brennan turned her head to look back into the interrogation room, where Shawn Cook was now tearing up, his face showing just how distressed he was. "Yeah, he '_may have_'," Brennan reiterated. "_May_. There is no evidence to fully support that theory, Mrs. Johnston. All I'm saying is - maybe Shawn Cook is innocent."

When Booth's voice floated through the speakers, telling her that he was persisting yet again in his questioning, Brennan shook her head. "I can't watch this," she muttered. "Please inform Agent Booth that I have returned to the Jeffersonian," she instructed Sara before stalking towards the wooden door, heading out of the observation room.

BBBBBBB

Booth had gotten out of the interrogation feeling way more frustrated than he had before he'd entered with the mystery of why Shawn Cook had been with his foster brother on the day he died. He had hoped to see his partner on the other side of the two-way mirror but only Sara Johnston the juvenile prosecutor had been there to tell him that 'Dr. Brennan has headed back to her workplace and requested that I inform you.'

He knew she was still angry with him. He didn't know why she was angry to begin with, why she felt so strongly about Shawn and David Cook staying with Margaret Sanders, but he knew that she was without a doubt still angry with him.

That had been the incentive for him to ring up social services to put in a favor to keep Shawn and David Cook together in emergency care - maybe this would get her to soften up a little.

Once social services had agreed with his plan - he'd had to spew out a whole bunch of crap about emotional issues and this being a tough time and the two kids would probably have less psychological scarring if they were put together and all that crap - Booth made his way to the Jeffersonian, fully hoping that this little bit was enough to tide Brennan over for now.

She was, as he'd predicted, up on the platform at the Medico-Legal lab. Charlie's little bones were laid out on the lit autopsy table, placed in an anatomically correct manner. He forced himself not to see the bones as he swiped his card and jogged up the steps to the platform.

Brennan ignored him as he approached, her attention diverted to the clipboard in her hand. "Bones, I thought you would like to know…" he began. "Shawn and David are in emergency care." She didn't even start at his words, so he continued, dismay coursing through him. _Doesn't look like 'emergency care' is good enough for her_, he noted in disappointment. "I pulled some strings, you know, to make sure they get to stay together.

"That's good, thanks," Brennan said in a monotonous voice, still scribbling away on her clipboard and not looking up at him once.

"It's the best I could do," Booth pleaded quietly, hoping she'd just get over her anger and forgive him for just _doing his job_.

"Yeah, I understand," she said flatly, still not looking up at him.

_You know what? Screw this. I didn't set out to be the bad guy. I was just doing what the law required me to do, as a federal agent. She can't just expect me to…_He sighed, irritated. "You say you understand, but you don't," he snapped. "Not really. I mean, if you don't like the rule, you ignore it, right?

He knew that was exactly her way of thinking, too. She was a loose cannon. It was one of the reasons he absolutely lo-liked. Liked her. It was one of the reasons he liked her. And it was also one of the reasons he _and_ his boss _and_ his boss' boss hadn't been too keen on letting her go out with him out on the field.

Despite her previous warnings not to, Booth placed his hands on the autopsy table, his fingers as far away from Charlie as he could manage, and leaned his weight on it. He hadn't realized that one of his hands had been on top of a pencil until he heard the snap and looked down to see the pencil broken in two. He looked up, dismissing such a trivial thing, to continue his rant. "I can't have that and…If you want to do this…"

Brennan looked up at him questioningly. "Do what?"

"Work on cases," he clarified in a slightly raised, frustrated voice. "You know, _with me_, outside the lab. If you want to do that, I need to know that you will respect the law. I mean, God, Bones. I know you're upset. I just don't know why. I'm just doing my job here. And I can't just break the law every time you're upset about the way it works. Not when you're my partner and not even when you're my girlfriend," he lowered his voice as he said that last part. "I'd do anything to make you happy if I could, Bones, but not this. You _know_ I can't."

His voice had gotten hushed and rushed and desperate by the time he'd finished with his little rant. Brennan stared at him with intelligent eyes, her lips pursed as she considered his words.

Finally, she sighed and lowered her head for a second to look at her feet. "Tell you what," she said, glancing back up at him with a resigned look in her eyes. "If I can't respect the law, I can at least respect you."

Booth reeled back in shock at her words. "Oh," he uttered, stunned. "Maybe. Yeah, that will work, too…I mean, it kind of comes out of nowhere but…" he trailed off, still too shocked to really say much that made sense.

Brennan allowed him a small smile. "It's just…" she sighed again, shaking her head and looking away from him, trying to find a way to say this without saying too much. "You know how you're always telling me I don't understand, when we come across some social situations that you feel the need to handle and I'm confused about it all?"

Booth nodded, eyeing her warily. "Yeah."

She tilted her head to the side, an unrecognizable look in her eyes he couldn't quite put his finger on. All he knew was that her eyes had turned into a dark stormy blue and that it wasn't a happy look she was wearing. "Well, this is one of those rare times when _I'm_ telling _you_ that you don't understand," she continued, her voice shaking slightly. "I can't explain it. Not because I don't know how, but because I just…Can't."

He straightened up, an understanding look on his face even when she knew he didn't understand her confusing words. "Hey, Bones, it's okay," he said softly. "You don't have to…Listen, if and when you're ready, we'll talk. Right now, we'll just concentrate on the case, okay?"

She nodded, smiling gratefully at him. Her gaze landed on the pencil on the table. "Look what you did," she accused him in a soft, playful tone.

"It's a pencil," he waved her words away. "I'll get you a new one."

But Brennan, with her million miles a minute brain, had come up with something else. She was staring at the pencil with a 'Eureka!' look on her face. Booth could practically see the gears in her mind turning.

"The victim was killed by trauma to the chest, but the ribs are broken in two places, not just one," she stated what they already knew before, but with a tone that suggested she'd just realized something very important.

Booth nodded. "Because of the…Uh…The brittle bones," he agreed, narrowing his eyes as he tried to remember her earlier words. All scientific mambo-jumbo he really didn't understand much of unless simplified. "Because of the…His disease."

"Well, that was my assumption," Brennan conceded. "But there's another explanation."

Brennan grabbed the pencil off the table and brushed past Booth to leave the platform. Booth quickly stepped in front of her, halting her movements. He was getting tired of squints whose mind work too fast for normal people to catch up to. He was a part of the investigation - the important part that actually brought these cases to the squints in the first place - and he had every right to be in on their discoveries.

"Okay, whoa," he stopped her. "What's the other explanation?"

"Compression," she explained in one word.

Booth narrowed his eyes at her, stepping next to her as they walked side by side down the platform and made their way down the hallway towards Angela's office.

"Alright," Booth said, trying to get on the same page as Brennan. "Charlie Sanders was _crushed_ to death?"

Brennan nodded. "Yes. Green stick fractures, retebral and sternal." She held up the broken pencil for him to see. "See?"

"Alright, Shawn Cook outweighed Charlie Sanders by about, what…Maybe thirty pounds? How could he have crushed him to death?" Booth asked, already knowing the answer.

Brennan had enough time to shoot him a smug look before catching sight of Angela walking ahead of them. "Angela!" Brennan called out to her best friend. "We need to run some scenarios through the Angelator." She'd rushed ahead of the others to get to Angela's office, and was surprised that the other two took their time to come in.

When they finally did, though, Angela had made a beeline for the Angelator, inputting values into the handheld computer device she'd created to control the Angelator, to re-create the scene of Charlie's death.

She created a hologram of Charlie Sanders, which appeared a foot above the smooth surface of the Angelator. Booth and Brennan stood side by side at the Angelator while they worked on this new scenario.

"Charlie," Angela said, her eyes fixed on the handheld device as she entered the new values. "Was three feet four inches tall, and weighed fifty-eight pounds."

"And Shawn?" Brennan prompted.

"Shawn Cook is one point four meters tall and weighs thirty-one kilograms," Angela replied, the holographic image showing them how impossible it was for Shawn to have been the one to kill Charlie Sanders, despite his presence during said murder.

"His brother, David," Booth interjected, desperate to find a feasible lead. "Was, uh, five eight, one hundred and fifty pounds."

"One point seventy five meters, sixty-eight kilograms," Angela translated as she continued to type in values to see what height and weight Charlie's attacker would've been.

As Angela worked, Brennan spoke up, explaining more about her discovery. "At first I thought the break to Charlie's sternum was caused by blunt trauma because it only ran along one fault line," she said hurriedly. "But when Booth broke my pencil, I realized there's another way to cause the same type of injury - compression."

As she spoke, Angela's fingers moved quickly over her handheld computer control for the Angelator. The image of Charlie's small skeleton moved until his holographic bones were laying on the ground, a knee pushing down on his chest.

"Well, Hodgins found no particulates that suggested crushing," Angela disputed, hoping that Brennan's theory was wrong, as smart of a woman she was. It was horrifying to think of that little guy being crushed to death…It was too much.

"Body weight," Brennan said to Angela, ignoring her comment on Hodgins. "There has to be enough weight on the victim to stop the abdomen from moving so no air can get into the lungs. Prolonged pressure caused the sternum to snap in half and the ribs to break."

Angela did as Brennan suggested, adding height and weight accordingly until the holographic ribs and sternum snapped, the knee still crushing it.

"Oh," Angela breathed, turning away from the terrible image. She breathed in and out, exhaling slowly as she tried to calm her racing heart and churning stomach. When she had somewhat managed to tamp down the nausea, she turned back towards the holograph. "Sorry. Sorry," she apologized to Brennan and Booth.

"Kids made it harder, Ange," Brennan said, by way of saying she understood. Booth, next to her, managed to hide his shock at Brennan's empathic words and merely nodded, giving Angela a sympathetic smile. He, too, didn't enjoy it at all whenever a case involving small children was thrown his way.

Angela gave her a weak smile and cleared her throat, getting back to business in hopes that the partners would catch a break and she wouldn't have to deal with this case anymore. "I entered real world variables," she said in a subdued tone. "Taking into account Charlie's size and the amount of pressure that was required to break Charlie's sternum in the way that it was broken."

"What did you end up with?" Booth asked, once again eager to get to whatever new lead the squint squad could provide him with.

Angela narrowed her eyes at her handheld device. "Eighty-six point two kilograms," she concluded.

Booth stared at her blankly. "What's that in American?" he snipped, more than a little of his frustration creeping into his voice.

"A hundred and ninety pounds," Brennan supplied, shooting him a warning glare. "Way too much for either of the Cook kids or Margaret Sanders," Angela pointed out, relieved to have exonerated the three of them. One tragedy was enough to hit that family. More would be just cruel, and would probably break them.

"Shoot," Booth cursed under his breath. "I'd put the neighbor's kid, Skyler, at a hundred and sixty pounds."

"It can't be him, either," Brennan pointed out unnecessarily.

"Yeah," Booth sighed in annoyance. "We should be looking for a full grown man."

Brennan, remembering the undeniable proof Angela had dug up proving Shawn had been with Charlie the day he'd died, during his last few moments alive even, turned to Booth. "You have to get Shawn to tell you where he took Charlie after they left the mall," she urged him.

Booth shook his head. "He won't talk to me," he confessed.

Brennan pursed her lips in deep thought. She hadn't really offered to talk to Shawn, and Booth would've never suggested it since he had it in his head that 'squints didn't belong in the field or the interrogation room'. But she knew she could get Shawn to talk - they shared something deeper than the solidarity found in obtaining scars. She knew how Shawn felt, how terrified he must be over what he'd seen, what he'd done wrong and what was to come next. How terrified he must feel over never seeing Margaret, the one person who'd given him a stable home since whatever horrible ordeal he'd gone through that had landed him in foster care.

So she sighed and gave Booth a steely, determined look. "Let me do it," she demanded.

"Uh, no," came Booth's immediate reply. Seeing her about to argue, he added quickly, "You know, no offense, Bones, really, but people are not your strong point, Bones. And besides, he's not going to care about how many facts you put in front of him."

Brennan rolled her eyes, cocking her hips to one side. "Can you just go with me on this one, Booth?" she said exasperatedly. "We're trying to catch a killer. Let me help."

Booth eyed her dubiously. "When was the last time you even talked to a kid?" he asked, only half rhetorically.

Angela snorted at that. Brennan had warned her earlier, after her almost slip up when they'd been viewing footage of the surveillance cameras at the mall for the first time, that she hadn't told Booth about Rosalie, Wyatt, Zan or Tri yet. The fact that Brennan had four children and her experience in foster care - which Angela was sure Booth didn't know, either, or he wouldn't be so crass about the Cook brothers in front of Brennan - convinced Angela that Brennan really could get Shawn Cook to talk.

Booth and Brennan both turned to look at her. She flashed them both a sheepish grin. "Sorry. Go on with your bickering," she teased.

Booth, who had taken her derisive snort the wrong way, smirked and turned back to Brennan.

She, in turn, simply gave him a determined look. "I know what to say," she insisted in a soft, firm voice.

Booth stared at her for a long time, seeing her eyes take on that same stormy blue color as before. Sighing, he conceded. "What the hell," he said, defeated. "I'm outta options, anyway."

If she took offense to that, Brennan didn't show it.

BBBBBBB

Shawn had been brought back to another interrogation room at the FBI. His brother, David, had insisted on coming along and was waiting in Booth's office. Shawn's state appointed Child Advocate was present, as well.

The only difference this time was, instead of Booth, it was Brennan who was sitting next to Shawn.

"Do you remember me, Shawn?" she asked him in a soft voice, not wanting to terrify him further than he already was.

Shawn nodded as he flickered his eyes at her momentarily. "Museum lady," he stated correctly, remembering what Booth had introduced her as. "The one who's so smart."

Brennan smirked slightly. "Yeah, I'm pretty smart," she agreed.

In the observation room, Sara Johnston scoffed and rolled her eyes where she stood next to Booth. "And very modest," she added sarcastically.

Booth, knowing what Sara didn't, tilted his head to the side. "Oh, believe me," he said to her. "She _is_ being modest." 'Pretty smart' didn't even remotely cover how much of a genius Brennan was.

He turned his attention back to the interrogation going on.

"Smart enough to know that you didn't kill Charlie," Brennan continued, giving Shawn a sympathetic, sad look. Shawn started slightly but he didn't look at her and he remained quiet. "You don't have to say anything, Shawn. Just listen."

Brennan took a deep breath, knowing that once she said what she felt needed to be said, her partner would undoubtedly catch on to why she had been so out of sorts on this case. But she also knew that she needed to reassure Shawn, and this was the way to do it. So exhaling slowly, she began, "They give you a garbage bag to carry all of your stuff, like they're telling you everything you own is garbage. And then you have to go to a new school in clothes that smell like garbage bags."

Shawn slowly lifted his head to turn in her direction. "All the regular kids know you're a foster kid," he added softly. His eyes finally met hers, curiosity swimming in his pained eyes. "How do you know what it's like?"

Brennan chose not to answer his question. This was hard enough as it was. So she continued with the empathy angle. "They bounce you from place to place - and it's never home," she paused, giving Shawn a meaningful look. "Sometimes, the foster parents are nice."

Shawn's lips almost formed a smile. Almost. "Like Margaret?" he questioned, straightening up at the mention of his beloved foster mother.

"Yeah," Brennan nodded. "And sometimes, they separate you from your brother…It must have been nice with Margaret. Staying with David."

Shawn nodded in agreement at her words, the tears that had welled in his eyes starting to spill onto his cheeks. "We got bunk beds," he confided to Brennan. "At night, I knew David was there, like he was guarding me…Margaret's nice."

"You would do most anything to stay with Margaret, right?"

Shawn nodded his head 'yes', still crying.

"The man you took Charlie to, the man who hurt him…He knows that," Brennan said, gingerly trying to get Shawn to tell her what he knew. She knew that despite having gotten him to open up a little more about his home life, he could still clam up without any warning. "You didn't know that he'd hurt Charlie, but he did. And then he told you that Margaret would blame you. That she'd hate you. But this man is lying to you, Shawn. I can make sure that you go back to Margaret."

"How?" Shawn asked, perking up despite his tears. "You work at a museum."

Brennan looked up, staring at the two-way mirror. Even though she couldn't see Booth, she knew he was on the other side, watching. She wanted to make sure he got the message loud and clear. "I have a friend at the FBI," she told Shawn, eyes still on the mirror. "If I ask him to, he will make sure that you and David get to live with Margaret again."

The Child Advocate spoke up, then, protesting. "Dr. Brennan, you can't make promises like that."

"Yes, I can," Brennan insisted firmly. She turned her head to look at the mirror once more. "He _will_ do it. My friend will make it happen."

"Oh, man," Booth muttered, running a hand through his face. _Bones…Dammit. Why'd you do that for! _He cursed in his mind.

Brennan turned her head to look at Shawn, "But you _have_ to tell me who hurt Charlie."

Booth gave Sara a meaningful look. "I'm going to need your help to keep the promise she made to that boy," he told her.

Sara's eyes widened considerably. "Hey, I-I-I can't promise…" she trailed off, flustered and more than a little shocked.

"Mrs. Johnston," Booth interrupted her firmly. "My people and your people are going to have to make this happen." _There is no way I'm gonna let Bones become a liar to that little boy. Especially not when…_He swallowed, remembering her words earlier about garbage bags and being bounced from one home to another. It had been far too realistic for her to have gotten that from anything other than personal experience. He hadn't even considered that she'd gone through that. He knew about her parents' disappearance, but had assumed that she'd stayed with family when that had happened.

"What if Margaret doesn't want me anymore?" Shawn was crying to Brennan. "Charlie was her real son."

Brennan shook her head. "Charlie wasn't her biological son, either," Brennan revealed. "Charlie was just like you - someone that Margaret chose to love." She reached out to touch Shawn's hand gently. "I don't think we should let that man take you and David and Charlie away from Margaret…Do you?"

Slowly, Shawn shook his head no. "We should stop him," Brennan said with a shaky voice, tears welling up in her own eyes and her throat constricting at the sight of Shawn's shoulders shaking as he sobbed. "You and I should stop him."

Instead of replying to her words, Shawn launched himself at Brennan, his thin arms wrapping around her neck tightly, his face pressed into the side of her neck as he sobbed harder. Brennan hugged him back, her hands smoothing down his back a few times to help soothe him.

When he was slightly calmer, Shawn lifted his head slightly, still holding on tight to Brennan, to whisper in her ear.

Brennan listened to his whispered words, her widened eyes flying to the mirror. Booth saw the sad, determined look in her eyes and rocked back on his heel.

"She did it," he said aloud, awed. "She got his name."

Once Edward Nelson had been detained, Booth and Brennan returned to the Hoover building to find Sara Johnston in his office, Margaret Sanders sitting next to her. "You managed it?" Booth asked Sara unnecessarily.

Sara nodded. "I pulled some strings, but I managed it," she confirmed. "You owe me, Agent Booth."

Sending her a charm smile, he thanked her. "The boys still here?"

"Yeah. I had them wait out in the waiting area…" Sara turned to Margaret Sanders. "Are you ready to see them again?"

Despite how ready she had been before to be with her two remaining sons, Margaret Sanders now hesitated, wringing her hands together. Brennan eyed her for a moment before turning to Booth and Sara Johnston. "Why don't the two of you head out first?" she suggested. "Mrs. Sanders and I will be right behind you."

Sara gave her a dubious look but Booth, knowing that Brennan would probably use her personal experience with the system to get to Margaret the way she had with Shawn, nodded, agreeing. "Sure, Bones," he said easily. "Come on, Sara."

Mrs. Johnston followed Booth out of the office, biting her tongue until she was out of earshot of the sometimes-scary anthropologist to voice her protests.

Brennan, paying no mind to the prosecutor, leaned against Booth's desk, her hands on either side of her hips. She stared at Margaret Sanders sympathetically, waiting for a few moments for the woman to speak first. When all Margaret did was continue to wring her hands and stare despondently at her lap, Brennan took the initiative.

"You know, they're excited to see you again, Mrs. Sanders," Brennan murmured quietly. "They really love you. Especially Shawn. He kept asking for you this whole time."

Margaret let a tearful laugh escape through her lips, tears welling up in her eyes as she lifted her gaze to look at Brennan. "I love them, too," she confessed softly. "But what if…What if I've been a bad mother? I insisted all this time that Charlie was my own, when I should've…What if they think I love Charlie more than I love them?"

Brennan shook her head. "Nobody knew Charlie's real story," she reminded Margaret. "You insisted he was biologically yours to protect him, to keep him with you…You didn't need to do the same to keep Shawn and David with you. They understand."

"But what if…"

Brennan cut her off. "Listen, Margaret…" she sighed, looking away. "I'm not saying it would all be easy from now on."

Margaret nodded in acceptance of her words. Brennan turned her head back to look Margaret in the eyes. "All I'm saying…Is that _I_ would've _killed_ to get a foster mother like you," she continued on softly.

Margaret's eyes widened, a tear spilling onto her cheek. Her hand shook as she reached up to wipe her tear away, a small smile forming on her mouth. Brennan pushed herself away from the desk, reaching out her hand. Margaret took it, gripping it tightly as she stood. "Shawn and David know what an amazing mother you are to them, Margaret. Just love them," she advised.

BBBBBBB

After making sure that David and Shawn were reunited with Margaret - who had just been released - Brennan had returned to her office.

Edward Nelson, Margaret Sanders' neighbor's husband, had been arrested as the one who had been sexually harassing Shawn Cook and had ultimately killed him. Brennan had written her report, giving everything that she had discovered during the course of the investigation. She knew that Zack had gotten Charlie's bones ready to be taken away for Margaret to give him a proper burial.

She had just signed her name on Charlie Sanders' file, to close it officially, and closed it when Booth entered the office.

"We have him cold," he informed her. "The insecticide he was using on the termites matches the fluoride concentration perfectly. Skyler's dad admitted everything."

"Don't tell me," Brennan scoffed, scowling. "He said crushing Charlie to death was a mistake."

Booth smirked sadly. "He never abused Shawn Cook; he just used him to get near Charlie," he said, recounting what Edward Nelson had confessed to not half an hour ago. "It played out like you said. He had Charlie out in that field. Some teenage kids, they come by, so he knelt on Charlie to keep him from crying out. Shawn got scared, he ran back to his brother…"

"Charlie was small and weak - his sternum collapsed," Brennan filled in for him. Booth kept silent. There was no need to confirm what she already knew was true. "You think he abused any other kids?"

"Yeah," Booth sighed. "Probably his own son."

"You report that to Child Services?"

"Mm-hmm," Booth nodded. "Try to get the kid some help…" He eyed her for a moment, an apologetic look crossing his features as he shuffled his feet. "And I'm sorry."

Brennan scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. "For what?"

"You have personal experience in the system," he clarified.

Brennan's expression cleared up. In all the weariness of closing the case, writing the report and making sure that Zack could manage Charlie's remains…She had forgotten all about Booth finding out about her experience in foster care.

She sighed, looking away. "I was a foster child until I applied for and received emancipation from the state," she confessed, determined to say only that until the time was right - anything more would give away the secrets of her home life presently and she wasn't ready for that yet. Especially not after such a grueling day.

"Yeah," Booth nodded. "When you said, um, they take you away from your brother…I kind of had the feeling you weren't talking about David Cook."

She smiled forlornly, seeing the curious look in his somber eyes and knowing that he wanted to know more. "Booth, I'll tell you all about it one day," she promised truthfully. "But tonight, I have to get dressed for a party."

"Hmm. Okay, Bones," he agreed easily. He didn't want to push her into sharing something she wasn't ready to share. He gave her a tentative smile. "We'll go for lunch tomorrow?"

She nodded. "Sure, Booth. That sounds nice," they shared a smile before he turned to leave. Remembering the incident that had occurred just a few hours ago, she furrowed her eyebrows. "By the way," Brennan called out, causing him to halt and turn back around to face her. "There is a huge ding in my passenger side door because you told me not to park it at an angle."

An amused expression graced Booth's handsome features. When he started laughing, Brennan realized that he'd deliberately told her to park like she would a normal car as a cruel joke of some sort. Who really knew? I can never understand Booth's idea of humor, she thought wryly. "Okay, that's just mean!" she chided him, her eyes round with shock at the situation.

Booth simply laughed harder, shaking his head. "You're mean," Brennan pouted.

Booth walked over to her, shooting a discrete look over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching. Seeing that the lab outside was practically deserted since the squints were all probably getting ready for the banquet, he leaned towards Brennan to brush his lips softly against hers.

"Sorry," he uttered, even as he continued to smile largely.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "No, you're not," she retorted softly, one hand curling at the lapel of his jacket and pulling him in closer for another kiss. As they reluctantly broke away, Brennan murmured, "You know, one of these days you're going to have to tell me why you felt so threatened by my new sports car that you had to trick me into damaging…"

Her words were cut off as Booth, rolling his eyes, wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and pulled her flush against him, his mouth descending on her firmer than before. "Mmm…" Brennan moaned happily, her hand flying to the back of his head to grip at his short hair.

Booth gently nibbled at her lower lip, making a noise of displeasure as she pulled away slowly. "Is it some sort of male thing?" Brennan questioned him, looking at him through foggy eyes. "The car was some sort of symbolism for your manhood being threatened-"

He cut her off again, this time quicker, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip. Her mouth parted without her even thinking about it, and Booth's tongue snaked between her lips to tangle with hers. Satisfied when he felt her body sag against his as she gave into their kiss fully, he silently thanked his lucky stars that she was giving up on the whole car thing.

Brennan eventually pulled away, remembering where they were (in her office, with a large glass window and double glass doors that would've given anyone passing by her office a view of their passionate embrace). Fortunately for Booth, she had been running late to get home to get dressed for the banquet to question him any further on his intentions regarding the parking advise he'd given her a few days prior.

_Granted, I shouldn't have done that_, he reluctantly decided as he watched her dash out of her office. _God only knows how she managed to do that in four inch heels_, he mused.

Barely an hour later, the rest of the squint squad were congregated at the lab, just below the platform, waiting for Brennan to arrive. All of them, sans Hodgins, were dressed in formal attire - tuxedo and tie, and a formal evening dress for Angela.

"That is not a tuxedo, Dr. Hodgins," Goodman stated in a disapproving tone.

"I am _not_ going, Dr. Goodman," Hodgins insisted firmly, glaring at the man who believed himself to be his superior.

"You _are_ going," Goodman countered, walking up to Hodgins with a sticker pad with name tags for all of them. He peeled the one with Hodgins' name on it to stick it on Hodgins' shirt pocket. He turned to the others, walking over to Zack. "When we arrive, the donors will all be wearing name tags," he handed Zack's name tag for him to stick onto his tux.

"What do we talk about?" Zack asked, carefully sticking his name tag on his tux, right above his heart.

"Your work, of course," Goodman replied.

Angela, who was still in turmoil over her decision to quit - closing Charlie Sanders' case hadn't really given her the closure she'd thought it would - gave Goodman a look. "Zack's work consists of removing flesh from corpses. Hodgins dissects bugs that have been eating people's eyeballs-"

Hodgins interrupted her, still fuming. "Leave me out of it. I am not going," he persisted. Everyone ignored him, Dr. Goodman especially. "And how do you see your job?" he asked Angela, staring at her concernedly.

Angela sighed despondently, shaking her head. "I draw death masks," she said, her voice catching slightly. _Oh, God, it sounds so much worse when I say it like that_.

Goodman's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Is that really how you see it?" he questioned, incredulity ringing in his every word.

"Don't you?" she shot back, a tiny ray of hope peeking through.

"You are the best of us, Miss Montenegro," Goodman insisted. "You…Discern humanity in the wreck of a ruined human body. You give victims back their faces, their identities. You remind us all of why we're here in the first place…Because we treasure human life."

Angela stared at Goodman, tears welling up in her eyes and her heart swelling at his kind words. Without preamble, she rushed forward, slamming into his large frame and wrapping her arms around him in a hug, breathing a sigh of relief.

Goodman rolled his eyes at her sudden sign of affection. "Oh, for God's sake," he muttered.

They had all been so wrapped up in Goodman's reassurances to Angela - and her subsequent response to it - that they hadn't noticed Brennan walking up to the group, changed and dolled up, ready for the banquet.

"What happened?" she asked, looking around her in confusion, her sudden appearance startling the others. Angela pulled back from her boss, blinking away her unshed tears.

Zack took the liberty of answering his boss' question. "Apparently, all Angela needed was to hear her job description in a deep, African-American tone," he said in his usual manner.

"Mr. Addy!" Goodman chided, giving him a stern look.

He was just about to usher them all out of the lab and into the waiting limo outside, even the ever-stubborn Dr. Hodgins, when Booth came striding into the lab.

"Dr. Goodman," Booth called out, lifting his hand slightly to show the plastic zip-lock bag of white colored particulates he was holding. "We need Hodgins in the lab tonight. FBI needs this analyzed by morning," he handed the bag over to Hodgins.

Hodgins, perking up as he realized that Booth was giving him a means to escape the banquet without having to literally outrun his boss, took the bag and nodded earnestly. "Uh, I'm going to get right on it," he assured Booth, hiding a grateful smile even as his blue eyes twinkled appreciatively.

"Wha..Wha…Wait a minute," Goodman called out to Hodgins to stop him from moving away from the group. He turned to Booth suspiciously. "What case file is this?"

"Am I supposed to know about it?" Brennan chimed in, looking confused.

Angela, stepping up to help Hodgins as well, stated helpfully, "Booth mentioned it to me earlier today."

Brennan shrugged. If Booth and Angela knew about it, then she'd accept it. She trusted those two the most. "That's good enough for me," she dismissed.

Goodman sighed, defeated. "Fine. You're off the hook, Dr. Hodgins," he said, annoyed. He turned to Angela and Brennan. "Let's not keep the limo waiting."

Angela, Zack and Goodman turned to leave, exiting through the doors leading into the Medico-Legal lab.

Hodgins watched them leave, doing an internal happy dance. Turning to Booth, he grinned a little. "Thanks," he said, walking away with the bag of particulates in hand. _Maybe he's not _that_ bad_, he allowed.

Now that he was alone with Brennan, Booth allowed himself to fully appreciate her gorgeous form in that dress. "You look nice," he told her, his voice hoarse as his eyes raked over her. "Better than nice. You look, uh, very…Beautiful. Bones, you look gorgeous."

Brennan ducked her head slightly, blushing. "Thanks," she uttered. Though she knew that she was appealing physically to most heterosexual males, she had never been complimented as being 'beautiful'. Not before Booth, that was. She was still trying to get used to it.

He laughed, brown eyes twinkling merrily. "Bones…How did you know I was going to keep your promise?" he asked her, the question having bugged him for hours now.

"What promise?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"To get Shawn and David back with Margaret Sanders," he clarified. Brennan shrugged, a small teasing smile on her lips. "Maybe I was lying to catch the bad guy," she replied. "I learned that trick from you. The end justifies the means."

"Hmm," Booth hummed, moving to walk away to get back inside his car and drive home.

"Booth," Brennan called out. He turned around to face her once more. "I knew you would back me up. I knew you wouldn't make me a liar."

Booth hummed once more. "How'd you know?" he asked again.

"Because you want to go to heaven."

Booth gave her an incredulous look. "But you don't believe in heaven."

Brennan gave him a slow smile. "But you do," she countered.

Booth stared at her for a long moment before walking over to her. He bent his head to brush his lips gently on her cheek. "Have fun tonight, Bones," he murmured against her skin.

He pulled back, smirking a little at the dazed look in her eyes, and turned to leave, the image of her looking so sexy forever imprinted in his mind.

Brennan watched him leave, a smile playing on the edges of her lips, before she turned, heading out to the limo waiting outside.

* * *

Whoa, I'm so sorry this is so long…I wonder if future episodes/chapters will be longer. I promise to break it into two parts if they are.

Anyway, even though this has the perfect opportunity for Brennan to reveal to Booth about Rose, Wyatt, Zan and Tri, I just didn't feel it. Besides, I have the perfect scene in mind and it just didn't fit anywhere here. Soon, though, I promise. And Parker will come in sooner than the Christmas episode, as well.

I hope you've all enjoyed what was changed here. There isn't any hot BB moments here which I will rectify the next chapter.

Please tell me what you thought of this episode/chapter. Thank you for reading and for those who had reviewed.

Juliet.


	6. The Man in the Wall

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

* * *

_November 15, 2005_

"You know, we should probably move," Brennan said lazily, even as she snuggled deeper into Booth's side, practically lying on top of his body, hitching her leg around his hip and tracing circles on his pectorals with her finger. "It's almost time to get to work. People are going to start coming in…" She trailed off, dropping her head to his chest to pepper soft, lingering kisses on his bare skin.

Booth reached over with one hand towards the coffee table a foot away from Brennan's office couch, grabbing his watch. He rolled his eyes as he glanced at the time. "Bones, it's only five forty five," he showed her the watch. "No sane person comes to work at this time."

"I do, sometimes," she admitted against his chest as she trailed kisses from his collarbone downwards.

He grinned, wrapping an arm around her body and holding her to him. "Exactly," he teased.

She retaliated by drawing his nipple into her mouth and biting down hard enough to hurt. He hissed, chuckling. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry…" he smoothed his hand down her back. "Jeez, you're feisty."

"Mm," she hummed, lifting her head to rest it against his shoulder, her arm draping over his torso and her fingers resting against his collarbone. "You love it when I'm feisty."

"True," he conceded. They laid there in silence for a moment, Brennan's head cradled in the crook of his neck and Booth's hand smoothing up and down her back.

He thought about how they'd ended up sprawled naked on her office couch, the door locked and blinds drawn.

"_Bones!" Booth called out, shaking his head as he saw the light in her office. It was almost one in the morning. He'd called her on her house phone ever since eight thirty that night, but no one had answered. He figured that she had to be at the lab, working on cataloging bones or whatever. She'd told him she might stay late at the lab, but he'd figured that late meant 'nine, maybe ten o'clock' at most. Of course she was Brennan so it wasn't exactly the case._

_Brennan, sitting behind her desk scribbling away on the paperwork necessary for three of the remains she'd just identified, jerked upright. She stared confusedly at her partner as he strolled into the office. "Booth…What are you doing here?" she asked. "Do we have a case?"_

_He shook his head. "No, Bones, we don't have a case," he assured her._

"_Then what're you…?" she trailed off._

_He shot her a stern look. "I've been calling you for hours, Bones," he groused. "It's almost one in the morning - what the hell are you still doing at work?"_

_She shrugged. Rosalie and Wyatt were both in Canada, going on a week long class trip, and Zan and Demetri were with Christian once more. Instead of going home to an empty house, Brennan had decided to catch up on a little extra work. What with all the FBI cases Booth brought her, she hadn't had time to really do much for the bones in bone storage. "Working, Booth, obviously," she answered, as though he was dense._

_He rolled his eyes. "I know that, Bones," he said exasperatedly. "I meant…Look, can't you just work tomorrow? Go home now. Get some rest."_

_She raised an eyebrow at him. "You came all the way here to tell me to go home?" she asked, baffled. "You could've just called."_

"_I did call!" he repeated. "You never answered."_

_Brennan picked up her phone and frowned at it. "Huh," she muttered. "My battery died." She stood up from her seat and walked over to her small side table in between the door to her private bathroom and her file cabinet. She grabbed the charger she always kept on the table, plugging it into the power point right above it and switching it on and charging her phone._

_Booth walked over to her. "No, no, no…Why are you charging your phone here? Charge it at home," he insisted, grabbing her gently by the elbow._

_She shook him off, turning to glare at him. "I'll charge my phone wherever the hell I want to charge my phone, Booth!" she snapped. "I happen to have a lot of work to do, okay?"_

_He sighed. "C'mon, Bones…I'll be worried about you if you just stay here and work all night long," he tried to coax._

_She shrugged. "Well, that's hardly my problem," she replied. "You don't have to worry at all considering the Jeffersonian has top security."_

"_That's not exactly what I meant."_

_Brennan tilted her head to the side, gesturing to the paperwork on her table. "Look, I need to get back to work so…"_

"_I'm not leaving unless you're leaving with me," Booth insisted stubbornly._

_She pursed her lips, glaring at him. "Fine, make yourself comfortable, then," she said smugly, sure now that she had caught his bluff. "We'll be here a while."_

_To her surprise, Booth merely shrugged and made his way towards the couch. "Booth…?" she trailed off, watching as he plopped down on the couch and kicked off his shoes. "Booth, what're you doing?"_

"_Making myself comfortable," he replied, casually lifting his feet and placing it on her coffee table, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Like you said."_

_She placed her hands on her hips. "Booth! Put your feet down and get out! You're only going to be distracting me if you stay," she said through gritted teeth._

_He responded with a charm smile flashed in her direction. "Too bad, Bones," he said happily, linking his fingers behind his head. "I'm staying."_

_She rolled her eyes heavenward but turned to head to her desk. She wasn't going to give in. She'd sat down at her chair, picked up her pen and written two sentences when Booth started humming the tune to Mission Impossible._

"_Booth," she warned, not looking up from her work._

"_Sorry," came his less than genuine reply._

_A few moments passed in silence, only the sound of her pen scratching against paper heard in the still room, before he started to sing 'Highway to Hell' - badly - under his breath._

_She exhaled loudly, exasperated, and slammed her pen back on her desk. She jumped out of her seat and stalked over to him. "Okay, that's it," she said, reaching over and grabbing his arm. "You have to go. You're behaving like a child, Booth, and I really do need to get my paperwork done…"_

_She tugged at his arm, trying to move him, but he was far too strong for her. He didn't budge an inch. "Booth!" she complained._

_He grinned at her impishly, his other arm reaching out to snag her around the waist and pull her down onto his lap. "Booth!" she squealed in surprise, heart pounding faster at the sudden movement. She slapped her hand against his chest. "Don't _do_ that!"_

"_I'm sorry, Bones," he apologized smoothly, keeping his arm firmly around her waist. His free hand went up to her hair, smoothing it back from her face. "I just wanted a hug. We haven't seen each other properly in nearly three days."_

_She pursed her lips, considering. "You're right about that," she nodded. They'd both been so busy with work and home life - she'd had to send Rose and Wyatt to the airport to meet up with the rest of their class attending the trip just yesterday and Booth had been having a myriad of meetings with his bosses lately - that they'd barely been able to have brief conversations on the phone._

_He hugged her closer to his body and she shifted so that she was straddling him, her folded legs on either side of him. "Kiss me, Booth," she ordered, bossy even when her voice had gone all soft and breathy._

_Booth chuckled, his hand sliding up her jaw to cup the back of her head underneath her ear, bringing her face closer to his. "My pleasure, Bones," he murmured into her parted lips, his own covering hers in a sweet, sweet kiss._

_Of course, the tension that had built up in their bodies after having spent so many days apart from each other soon broke, like a rubber band snapping. Brennan moaned breathily, her hands sliding up his muscled pectorals to grip at his shoulders._

_Booth's hands splayed across her back, shifting their bodies so that she was laying on top of her couch, his body following suit, never once breaking the kiss._

"_I want you," Brennan told him, her fingers deftly unsnapping button after button of his suit jacket. "I want you inside of me now."_

_A shiver ran down his spine at her words, his own hands going to the hem of her shirt to slide it up her body, their kisses growing more and more passionate._

And while their time together these past few hours had been beyond amazing, Booth still felt like he was missing something. Thinking it over, he realized that he missed the feeling of unrestrained affection they'd been able to give each other when they were together all alone, without her geek friends around or the possibility of running into someone they knew.

So, without thinking, he blurted out, "Come away with me."

Brennan lifted her head from his shoulder to give him a confused look. "What…You mean, like, going away for the weekend? Back at the cabin?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. I mean, that was great, Bones, I loved it," he assured her. "But I thought, maybe…I mean, if you're not too busy or something…Maybe we could go on vacation."

She moved slightly back from him, propping herself up on one elbow. "Vacation?" she asked slowly. "Together?"

He nodded, biting his lip in anticipation as he turned on his side and mimicked her position, propping himself on one elbow as well. "Yeah," he said softly. "I mean…It's not anything new, is it? We've gone away together before. Aurora and the cabin?"

"Well, that's different," she disagreed. "The cabin was only a weekend away."

"We stayed there Monday, too," he reminded her.

The corner of her lip curled up slightly. "And Aurora…That was for a case," she continued. "I don't think it's the same as a planned vacation…"

He shrugged slightly. "I think we both deserve it," he countered. "I mean, it'd be fun. I think it'd be fun."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Where exactly were you planning on us going?" she asked, her tone suspicious.

He grinned. "Jamaica!" he answered happily, rolling onto his hand and raising his arms so that his hands cradled the back of his head.

"Jamaica!" Brennan repeated incredulously, tittering slightly at the goofy smile spread across his lips. "Why Jamaica?"

He nodded, closing his eyes and wriggling his body slightly to find a more comfortable spot that wouldn't strain his back muscles. "It'd be fun in Jamaica," he replied easily, eyes still closed even as he felt her crawl closer to him, her head falling against his chest and her hair tickling his chin. "Sandy beaches, fun clubs at night…That whole tropical island getaway."

"Well, why not Hawaii?" she teased.

He chuckled. "People always say 'Hawaii' when they want a tropical island getaway. I wanted to go for something different," he explained.

"So, Jamaica," she finished for him.

"Exactly." Booth cracked open one eye, then the other to see her lying completely on top of him, her arms folded around his body and her chin resting on his chest. "Does this mean you're saying yes to a vacation with me?" he asked hopefully.

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling at his happy expression. "I don't know, Booth," she admitted quietly, dropping her gaze to his chest. "Can I at least think about it?"

His face fell slightly but he nodded anyway. "Of course," he replied. "I don't expect you to answer me right away." And that was the truth, too. He knew how she liked to think everything through, overanalyze every single thing…Although his question had been spontaneous, he hadn't expected her to be spontaneous along with him and answer 'yes' right there on the couch. "Just…Think it through. And don't just say no right off the bat."

"I don't know what that means," Brennan said, furrowing her brows at him. "But I do promise to sleep in it."

"On it, Bones," he chuckled, bringing one arm around so he could run his fingers through her silky soft hair. "Sleep on it."

She nodded, sighing in contentment at the feel of his fingers massaging her scalp. "Right," she drawled out in this lazy kittenish voice he absolutely loved. It was a startling change from her usual brisk, kick-ass attitude during the daytime, and it had given him a right shock when he'd first seen her like this, but now…He couldn't get enough of it. "I'll do that."

Her fingers, which had been drawing ticklish circuits down his chest, brushed against his stomach. He jumped slightly and turned his head to give her a glare. "Bones," he warned.

She giggled uncharacteristically, a tiny little girly sound he adored. "What?" she blinked innocent eyes at him. "We're lovers, Booth. I'm allowed to touch your stomach."

"I'm ticklish there," he whined. "You know that."

"Mm-hmm," she hummed a reply, amused. Springing into action, she climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. "So, I can't do this?" she asked teasingly, running her fingers down his muscled abs. She loved feeling the muscles there ripple. "Or this?" Leaning down, her hair tickled his chest as she began a path of slow, hot, open-mouthed kisses down the middle of his chest, leading straight for his stomach as she crawled down his body.

Booth groaned at the feel of her mouth on his bare skin. He could smell the sweet fragrance of her hair, even all the way from down there. He continued to harden and thicken, her bare flesh grinding against him as she kissed down his body. Growling, Booth reached down with both arms, yanking her up from his body with his hands locked underneath her arms. Brennan let out a girlish squeal as he carefully rolled them over so that he was on top of her, aware of the constrictions of the couch.

He settled his hips in between her spread thighs, groaning into her mouth as her long legs wrapped around his waist and lifted to grind her hips against his. His kisses, his touch, and their increased arousal was making a hot flush spread across her body. Too hot for the afghan blanket he'd thrown over their bodies. She gripped at the material, yanking it away hurriedly and flinging it away just as he pushed into her.

Her eyes rolled back into her head, a soft whimper escaping her lips - they had been doing this for three months, and she still hadn't gotten used to the feel of absolute euphoria whenever he was inside her.

"And think," his words were strained as he slowly withdrew and entered, setting a maddeningly slow pace she was sure only for the benefit of driving her insane. "We could be doing a lot of this in Jamaica."

She laughed at the unexpected comment, her head thrown back over the head of the couch even as her body rocked in synced with his. Her laughter blended into a pleased moan as his lips fell onto the skin of her neck, sucking desperately in an attempt to taste her.

BBBBBBB

Booth had managed to give her three more orgasms - once on the couch and twice in her office's private bathroom when they'd taken a shared shower - before dressing in one of the spare suits he kept in her office for situations like these and heading to work. He had been gone for half an hour before any of her team even showed up.

She was fully refreshed, sporting a glow she could attribute to healthy eating and those vitamins she bought from the organic store near her apartment which she religiously took on a daily basis (or, one night stand, if Angela persisted), wearing enough foundation to cover up the hickey on her neck Booth had given her in the wee hours of the day, and working on a new set of remains from bone storage when Angela finally found her.

"Morning, sweetie," Angela greeted Brennan with a wide grin.

"Huh?" Brennan answered distractedly.

Angela rolled her eyes, not at all hurt by Brennan's lack of attention. She was used to her friend concentrating so fully on her work that she blocked out the rest of the world. But today, when it was a Friday night and they were two hot single women…She saw no reason for Brennan to stay cooped up in the lab after hours yet again.

"I've been thinking…" Angela said, moving around the autopsy table to stand near Brennan. "We should go out tonight." When Brennan didn't reply, Angela gave her a stern look. "Bren, are you listening to me?"

Brennan lifted her head, her eyes darting from the Native American skull in her hands she had been carefully examining to Angela, the intensity in her baby blues never wavering. "Something about going out?" she replied.

Angela nodded, chewing on her lower lip. "Yeah. I mean, it's been a while since we went out for fun…What do you think? All death and no play makes us very dull girls," she sing-sang teasingly.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan admitted. "And I'm not sure I'm able to go out tonight." Booth had distracted her enough the night before, and she was now behind on her schedule. She had to scramble to finish at least some of what she'd intended to do yesterday, as well as the work she'd planned to do today.

Angela sighed. "Bren, come on," she said, giving Brennan a patient look. "You can't spare even one night out with your best friend? That's really…That's not good."

Brennan pursed her lips, giving Angela a sigh. "If I say 'we'll go out tonight', will you leave me alone so I can get back to work?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

With a neutral expression on her face, Angela answered, "Yes."

"Then, fine, we'll go out tonight," Brennan conceded, her eyes going back to the skull cradled carefully in her hands.

Angela beamed widely. "Great! You won't regret it, Bren. I thought we'd go to this club that's just…Amazing. The music there-"

Brennan cleared her throat and gave her friend a glare. "Angela," she warned.

Angela held up both hands. "Alright, alright," she said hastily, backing away from the autopsy table and walking backwards towards the exit. "I'll just go to my office. Call if you need me, sweetie."

Brennan worked twice as hard as she normally did, even forgoing lunch to catch up on her work. She placed facial markers on three different skulls from bone storage for Angela to get started on, catalogued the remains and crammed everything she'd intended to do the night before when Booth had shown up and distracted her.

By the time evening came around, Brennan was in her office. She wasn't particularly busy - in fact, if Angela knew what was on her schedule, she would say that Brennan was free to leave. But Brennan was having second thoughts about going to some club. She wasn't really a club type of girl, and she didn't think she'd enjoy going to a place like that.

But Angela was determined, striding into Brennan's office at seven thirty with her coat and purse in hand, all pretty and ready to go. "Come on, honey," Angela called out to her. "If we don't leave now, we won't get into the club."

Angela, like Booth, seemed to love using monikers. She had long ago stopped trying to get Angela to stop calling her things like 'honey' and 'sweetie'. It didn't really make her awkward anymore like it did when she'd first met Angela. It seemed as though the woman called pretty much everyone 'sweetie'.

"Alright, I'm just finishing up a few emails," Brennan said easily, in an attempt to delay Angela.

"Oh? What?" Angela questioned, placing her purse on Brennan's desk as she waited for her friend.

Brennan shrugged, eyes fixed on her computer screen. "My publisher wants to schedule a book tour," she answered honestly. "I'm just confirming dates."

"Okay, that can wait, sweetie."

_Damn it, I should've come up with a better answer than that_, Brennan sulked. "There's a student that needs help identifying the cause of a fracture on a lateral epicondial," she tried again.

Angela wasn't having any of it. "TGIF? You ever heard of that?" she questioned rhetorically.

"Yeah, it's some kind of acronym," Brennan replied, taking Angela literally as usual. "But my inbox is full."

"We know that's not true," Angela had adopted that same patient look and tone that she always used whenever she dealt with a particularly stubborn Brennan.

"And there's a TV show that needs research," Brennan blurted out, hoping that Angela's enthusiasm for pop culture would divert her attention from her determination to get Brennan out of the lab and into some club. "Not that they listen."

Angela walked around Brennan's desk to grab the papers Brennan was holding out of her hands. "We're going," she persisted, placing the papers down on the table and gently yanking Brennan out of her chair.

"I really should catalog that skull," she said, pointing to the skull in question. "It's in the museum's exhibit on the French Revolution."

Angela was helping Brennan remove her lab coat. "Yeah, Pepé Le Pew is more important than booze, anyways," she said sarcastically, handing Brennan her coat.

Brennan stared confusedly at Angela even as her friend ushered her out of her office. "I…don't think that's his name," she offered.

Angela had managed to get Brennan back to her apartment to change quickly into an outfit before they'd rushed across town to the club. Thanks to Angela's charm, they'd managed to cut the long line and entered the club without having to wait much.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Angela asked knowingly as they stood at the bar, each with a drink in hand, the music pulsing loudly. "Being with people who are alive."

"It's very stimulating, I have to admit," Brennan agreed.

Angela chuckled, grinning widely. "We are so going to tear it up tonight," she said giddily.

"Wait - that's a slang, right?" she asked Angela, eyebrows furrowing together. She didn't understand what 'tear it up' meant but it didn't seem like it was actually something literal they might do, so she figured Angela had been metaphorical in her words.

"Right," Angela drawled, drawing out the word sarcastically.

Brennan didn't catch on to her sarcasm. Instead, she switched to a new topic, gesturing to the clothes she'd thrown on earlier. "Is my costume alright?" she asked Angela worriedly.

Angela smiled at her reassuringly. "Sweetie, it's not a costume, it's a cute outfit," she corrected gently. "And, yes, it looks perfect."

Mistaking Angela's words for praise that she'd worn something to accommodate the temperature of the club instead of a compliment on how she looked, she nodded as she bopped her head along to the music. "I know. It's very…It's very warm in here," she said, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the music.

Angela giggled a little. "No," she shook her head. "Because it looks great. You are so getting checked out."

Brennan blushed slightly. "I love this music!" she said instead, changing the subject abruptly.

Angela allowed it, nodding as she agreed with Brennan, gesturing with her head to the front of the club where a DJ was playing. "DJ Rulz," she said by way of introduction. "He is _so_ hot."

Angela tilted her head to the side to indicate the dance floor. Brennan smiled and the two of them moved towards the dance floor to dance with each other, both moving to the rhythm of the music. "It's so tribal," Brennan noted, her genius mind still working a mile a minute despite being in a social setting.

Angela frowned at her. "Don't say tribal, sweetie," she chided, noticing how Brennan's voice had carried a little, causing a few of the dark-skinned people nearby to glance her way, not looking particularly pleased.

"Why?" Brennan questioned. She seemed to notice the people around her just as she spoke and nodded as though she understood why Angela had told her not to say 'tribal'. "Oh, because of all the black people?"

Angela sucked in a deep breath, hoping against hope that Brennan wouldn't get them into trouble before the night even truly began. "Sweetie," she cut Brennan off. "Just for tonight, have fun. Stop dissecting and take apart."

Brennan, of course, didn't heed her advice at all. "African Americans aren't the only ones with tribal heritage," she told Angela excitedly, smiling as she continued on with her idea of fun, small talk as they danced.

One of the African American women standing nearby with a group of her friends pushed away from her group to approach Brennan, wearing an angry frown on her face. "You're saying we're natives in some tribe?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, anthropologically speaking, we're all members of tribes," Brennan replied logically, not seeing how her words would have a negative effect on the girl.

The girl's friend stepped up next to her, backing her up. "You better shut your mouth!" she snapped, obviously much more aggressive than her friend.

Brennan, catching on that the two women had gotten the wrong impression, tried to straighten it out - using anthropology. "No, I just meant…Hip-hop mirrors the direct visceral connection you see in tribal communication," she tried to explain.

A man, also of African American ancestry, who had been dancing nearby and unintentionally listening in on their conversation, stopped dancing to stare at her angrily. "What?" he demanded.

Thinking she was getting somewhere with them, Brennan continued, "After the Cartesians split, late in the 17th century, we separated our minds from our bodies…The numinous from the animalistic-"

"Are you calling me an animal, boo?" the first woman who had approached Brennan and Angela interrupted her.

Another woman who had been dancing near them stopped to help Brennan out. "No, fool," she snapped at the angry female. "She's using Descartes' philosophy to say she's down with the music."

If Brennan was at all surprised that a woman with such a high intellect was dancing in a club on a Friday night, she didn't have a chance to say anything.

The first woman who had approached Brennan turned angry eyes to their newest 'friend'. "Who you calling a fool, fool?" she snapped, lashing out and pushing away Brennan's only supporter in this whole debacle, other than Angela. With the other woman out of the way, the first woman turned to Brennan, raising her hand to slap Brennan.

But Brennan, being so adept at hand to hand combat, avoided being slapped by the woman and hit her in the chest, causing her to stumble backwards.

Angela, eyes wide, tried to usher Brennan away from the group and out of the club before the situation became more out of hand than it already was. "We're going," she assured them. "We're going."

Apparently, that wasn't good enough for the man who'd approached them earlier. "You shouldn't have done that, bitch," he snarled, grabbing Brennan by the arm.

Brennan turned around, smoothly getting out of his grasp, and kicked him backwards in the chest. Like the woman who had assaulted Brennan before him, he went stumbling backwards. Brennan had used more force with him, however, so he stumbled a greater distance, crashing into a wall. The plaster of the wall obviously wasn't very sturdy because as the man crashed into it, he fell right through. As he did, a cloud of something white billowed out over the crowd in a dusty fog. Brennan and Angela, one of the few closest to the wall, were hit with it the most.

Angela, shaking out of her shocked state, lifted her hand up to her mouth, tasting her finger which was coated with the white dust. Her eyes widened as the substance hit her tongue. "Uh-oh," she muttered.

She turned to warn Brennan when she caught sight of what was in the wall. Someone had helped the man Brennan had kicked into the wall up and as he scrambled away, they were presented with the sight of a dried out skeleton.

The music halted to a stop, and Brennan heard a woman screaming somewhere to her left. But even in her dazed, slightly high, state of mind, she was still coherent enough to know what to do next. "Angela, give me your phone," she instructed, knowing that she'd left hers back at her apartment. "I'm going to need to call Booth."

Booth arrived forty-five minutes later, nearly twenty minutes after the FBI techs had arrived to secure the scene.

Agent Furst, a fellow agent Booth sometimes worked with, met him outside the club entrance. "Booth," he greeted with a nod of the head and a handshake.

"Furst," he replied. "She's in there?" he nodded towards the club.

Furst nodded, an amused little smirk making its way to his lips as he turned on his heel and led Booth down the stairs and into the club. "Are you sure she can handle this?" Furst asked, skepticism lacing every word.

Booth nodded. "Look, no one in our lab knows the first thing about dealing with a mummy," he pointed out objectively. "I would've had to call her in anyway."

Furst still wasn't convinced. "She assaulted two agents who were trying to tape off the body," he informed Booth, his tone incredulous.

Brennan, who had seen Booth nearing, quickly abandoned the conversation she was having and rushed over just in time to hear Furst's complaint. "They were trying to compromise the remains," she defended her actions as Angela joined their little group.

Furst, noting Booth's confused expression as he took in Brennan's less than normal behavior, covered up a laugh with a cough. "A cloud of Meth covered the dance floor," he explained. Leaning over closer to Booth, he whispered, "I think they've inhaled quite a lot."

Booth had no trouble laughing out loud at Brennan and Angela. "Are you two high?" he chuckled, taking in Brennan's wide eyes with new interest.

"Only by accident, so it doesn't count," Angela stated defiantly, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at Booth.

Booth leaned forward slightly to peer at Brennan's eyes. "Your pupils are the size of saucers," he told her, amused. "You sure you're okay to work?"

Brennan was about to snap back at him when she noticed a police officer nearing the mummified remains still in the wall. "Wait!" she shouted, running towards him. "Get away from the remains."

Booth rolled his eyes, taking out the notepad he kept in his coat pocket. "Bones, simmer down," he called out to her. _God. Who knows what I'm getting into with a stoned Bones on the loose_, he thought wryly.

Before he could say anything else, or ask anyone any questions, a large man - obviously a club bodyguard - approached him. "How long is this going to take?" he asked rudely.

Booth, not in the least bit intimidated, glared at him. "Who the hell wants to know?" he matched the bodyguard's tone, cranky. He was not in the mood to deal with irritating people. He had called Brennan earlier to ask if she was free for dinner - it was one of those rare nights when he was free from work, behind the desk or out on the field, and he'd wanted to make good use of it. She'd bailed on him, saying that Angela had already made her promise to go out on a girl's night to some club. He'd resigned himself to a night alone at his place, watching a game and eating junk food, when he'd gotten a call from Brennan, speaking at lightning speed to tell him how she'd found a dead body at the club and he needed to come right away since it was right up their alley.

And now, instead of being in bed with his gorgeous partner, he was in a dusty, Meth-infected club, working on a new case in the middle of the night.

"I'm sorry, he works for me," another man approached, giving Booth an amicable, apologetic smile. "I'm Randall Hall. I run this place."

"You run this place, Mr. Hall," Booth repeated, staring at the man with interest. Usually we have to seek out suspects, they don't come to us. "Which is interesting to know, 'cause, you know, we found some drugs on this dead-"

"We _found_ them," Brennan interrupted, obviously still on a high as she bounded up next to Booth, hands on her hips as she stared Mr. Hall down. "We found them."

"Alright…" Booth fought the urge to roll his eyes. "We found some drugs on the dead guy. We're going to want to know where they came from? Why he had them?"

"Why?" Brennan interjected once more.

"Why he had them?" Booth prompted once more.

"Why he had them?" Brennan nodded along, repeating what he'd said as she glared at Randall Hall.

Ignoring her this time, Booth focused his attention on Hall. "Any idea who he is? Any idea?"

Brennan, either growing bored with the interrogation or seeing something she hadn't seen before, walked away from the group to hover near the mummified remains once more.

Hall, shaking his head at Brennan's confusing behavior, answered Booth's latest question. "The guy barely looks human," he said, nodding at the body. "What makes you think I would recognize him?"

Booth walked away from Hall, going over to stand next to Brennan. "Bones?" he called out. When she didn't reply, he reached out with a hand to touch the mummy. "Bones, how does something like this happen? Ooh…" he trailed off, stunned, when slight pain shot up his arm.

Brennan, eyes widening in panic, had grabbed Booth by the arm, twisting his arm and walking him backwards so that he was further away from the body. "Don't touch, Booth!" she chided.

He glared at her as she released him. "Jeez. Just…Tell me what happened," he snapped at her.

"The Egyptians would give the body a cedar oil enema and then rinse it with wine and cover it with salt, but I don't think that's what happened here," Brennan rattled off, speaking speedily.

_Yeah, no kidding, Einstein_, Booth snarked in his mind. "Bones…You are totally wasted," he told her, hoping she wasn't going to knee him in the balls for that.

Thankfully, she didn't even seem to hear him. She was distracted by her assistant arriving on scene, a forensics kit in his hand. "Zack, Zack!" she called out, running over to him as though she was worried he wouldn't see or hear her. "Zack. Come here, come here," she dragged him towards the body in the wall. "Isn't this a beautiful specimen of mummification?"

Zack, absolutely startled by his mentor's behavior, looked around him, flustered. "What's going on?" he asked Booth, deducing that he was probably the best person to ask if it involved Brennan since the two were partners.

"Let's just say your boss…_Inhaled_," Booth replied, watching Brennan in amusement.

"See how perfectly dried and preserved the skin is?" she asked Zack excitedly, pointing to the mummy. "You don't find something like this everyday."

Zack nodded along with Brennan, eager to please.

"Hey, I think I'm seeing butterflies," Angela commented, not really sure what she was saying.

Brennan bounded up to Angela at this. "That is so weird," she said somberly. "I think I did, too."

Booth walked over to her, frowning as he grasped her chin in his hand, ducking his head to look into her slightly glassy eyes. "Seriously, Bones, you sure you're okay to work tonight? I could just drive you home - Zack can take care of the remains until you're…You know, not so high anymore," he suggested.

Brennan shook her head. "No, no, no…It's a mummy, Booth!" she said excitedly, as though this was reason enough for her to stay even in her state.

"Okay, fine," he shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to get anywhere with her. She was strangely stubborn that way. "Just…Calm down. Breathe. Uh, air."

Brennan flashed a grin his way before running back over to Zack. _Note to self - drugs makes Bones hyperactive_.

Angela, who had been watching Booth and Brennan interact, gave a loud, dramatic sniffle and dabbed theatrically at her eyes. "Aww…" she cooed, beaming at Booth. "You're so sweet to her."

Booth scowled at her. "Can we just stick to business here?" he snapped. "Thank you." He walked back over to where Randall Hall was standing with his supposed-to-be-intimidating bodyguard, and Furst. "I'm going to need a list of your employees, alright? We'll find out…Run it through the system, see if any one of them have a drug conviction."

He went back over to Brennan, avoiding Angela entirely. "How long before you can ID him?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not at all tired," she told him. _Right, Bones, of course_. "So I'm sure I can stay up all night and work." She turned to Zack, "We have to be careful. We're moving him; he's very dry and brittle."

Brennan faced the mummy once more, gently brushing cobwebs out of the mummy's face, looking at it with a sort of awe written all over her face. "My first modern mummy," she murmured, her eyes sparkling exuberantly.

_Okay, a happy Bones is an adorable Bones, but it's just _wrong _that she's so excited about this_, Booth thought, shaking his head at her.

BBBBBBB

By the time Brennan had made it back to the lab, mummy safely in tow, she had more or less gotten off her high. Now all that was left was the aching reminder in the form of a throbbing migraine. She had sent her team off to do what they did best with the mummy, while she went to work on the mummy's hands. Booth had followed her, choosing not to stay with the crazy squints he wasn't always so fond of.

"They are easier to work with dismembered," Brennan informed Booth as they walked into an examination room, hands in jar and ready to be used. "I've re-hydrated them so we can get some fingerprints."

Booth looked on, nauseous, as Brennan lifted the lid off the jar containing the mummy's hands, swollen and fleshier. "Off that?" he asked, sounding disbelieving.

"Sure."

Deciding to change the subject, he brought up their maybe-vacation. No one was around and if they were going to go, they would be leaving by next Thursday. Since they had a case on their hands, he wasn't too sure he and Brennan would have that much time alone to discuss it. He was going to grab any and every opportunity he could to sway her. "You've ever been to Costa Rica?" he asked.

"I was flown down once," Brennan replied, looking up at him briefly, confused as to the abrupt change of topic. "They found a human skull a thousand and two hundred years old…Why?"

"Oh, I just thought maybe we could go there for our vacation," he said nonchalantly, trying not to freak her out. He swallowed hard as he watched Brennan handle the previously mummified hand. "I was going to get off, um, Thursday…You know, use up some of my vacation time…I heard Costa Rica was beautiful…Are you…Did you make up your mind yet?"

"Nope, not yet," she replied, her attention focused on the mummy's hand, carefully peeling the skin off of the bones in one piece. "Costa Rica, huh? What happened to Jamaica?"

"Costa Rice, Jamaica, same difference," he waved his hand, dismissing her jibe.

She chuckled incredulously. "No, it's not," she disagreed. "Hmm. Fascinating wildlife," she commented on his choice of vacation location. "Lots of parrots."

"Ooh, I don't like parrots, no," he revealed.

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm. People should really, really do all the talking," his eyes were riveted to the removed skin of their mummified corpse. _Maybe this isn't the best time to talk about a vacation_. "You know, maybe I should…"

His jaw dropped when Brennan slid the mummy's skin over her own, sliding it on like a glove. "Oh, God," he choked out, disgust marring his handsome features. "What are you _doing_!"

"The Aztecs would fillet people and then wear their skin as a body suit," she said in reply.

Brennan didn't answer him. She just went over to a machine nearby, pressing her mummy-skin-clad thumb over the glass slat so that the machine would register the mummy's fingerprints and give them an ID.

Once she had gotten rid of the mummy's skin - and washed her hands with antibacterial soap for a good twenty minutes, since he wouldn't touch her otherwise - Booth had already gotten an ID from the FBI database thanks to the print Brennan had procured from the skin.

"His name is Roy Taylor," Booth informed Brennan and Angela.

Angela's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Roy Taylor! You're kidding…" At the two blank looks she received, she elaborated, "It's DJ Mount."

"I don't know who that is," Brennan said confusedly, sharing a look with Booth. This time, however, Booth was as lost as she was.

"Mount is one of the best DJs in DC," Angela explained. "He used to play at the club. Everyone was wondering what happened to him. His album is _really_ going to take off after this…"

Booth sucked in a deep breath. "Well, at least that's one more reason to bring in Randall Hall," he commented. Sneaking a look at his watch, he frowned, "It's barely four thirty in the morning…Ugh, alright, listen, you guys should really head home. We'll start working on this case tomorrow. Get some rest, huh?"

Angela was already nodding. "I hear ya," she agreed. "My head is still pounding even after the three painkillers I took…I'm gonna head home, sweetie," she said to Brennan. "Do you want me to drive you back?"

Brennan and Angela had driven to Brennan's apartment and then to the club in Angela's car. "No, I'm okay," Brennan reassured her friend. "My car is still here. I'll take that."

Angela gave Brennan a stern look. "Don't just say that, sweetie, and stay here all night," she warned.

"I won't," Brennan said. At Angela's disbelieving look, she insisted more firmly, "I won't. Angela, I just don't want to take a cab here tomorrow. I'm good."

Angela nodded again. "Okay. Goodnight, sweetie. 'Night, G-man," she flashed Booth a megawatt smile, unable to help her flirty nature even at four thirty in the morning with the beginnings of a hangover.

"Goodnight, Angela," Booth and Brennan echoed.

Booth waited until Angela was out of sight before turning to Brennan once more. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asked her. "I'll come pick you right up tomorrow morning."

Brennan shook her head. "No, it's okay, Booth," she assured him. "It's late…Or really early, depending on how you look at it. I don't want you driving me to my place then driving all the way across town to yours. You should get some sleep - you're cranky whenever you don't get enough sleep."

He scowled playfully at her. "Well, I could just sleep over at yours…?" he trailed off suggestively, wagging his eyebrow at her in a ridiculous manner.

Brennan pulled a face that was halfway chiding, halfway amused. Chuckling, she reached over to slap Booth lightly on the arm. "Booth!" she scolded.

"Alright, alright, fine," he gave in. "Listen, can I at least walk you to your car?"

She glared at him. "Booth, I'm more than capable of finding my own car," she placed her hands on her hips.

"I know that," he rolled his eyes. "But you have a tendency to say 'I'm going home' and instead stay at work all night."

She pursed her lips. "Technically, it's already day," she pointed out. At Booth's stern glare, she relented. "Okay, look, I just have to email my publisher about something important - Angela dragged me out before I could finish - but I'll be out of here by the hour."

He eyes her warily. "Well…Do you need me to stay with you until you're ready to leave?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

Booth sighed, rising from his seat. "Okay," he said softly. Looking around to make sure no one was around to witness them, he leaned towards her and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Don't be too long, Bones. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Booth," she smiled, stealing another kiss from him before he pulled away. She watched him leave, a little grin curled on her lips as she saw the bounce in his steps even as his broad shoulders were slightly hunched in a sign of fatigue.

BBBBBBB

Despite what she'd promised Booth and Angela, after emailing her publishers, Brennan did not go home. Instead, she finished up on the last of her paperwork, not wanting it to pile up before starting on their new case, and got started on the skull she'd been asked to look over for the French Revolution exhibit.

She managed to get some sleep at around six in the morning, setting the small alarm clock she'd bought for her office for nine a.m. She took a quick shower in her private bathroom and made a call to Wyatt near ten o'clock - he and Rose were in Yukon, so were about two hours behind.

"'lo?" Wyatt's sleep-laded voice greeted her after twelve rings.

Brennan frowned. "Wyatt, what are you still doing sleeping?" she asked him. "Shouldn't it be around eight over there?"

There was a moment of silence. "Mom?" Wyatt sounded completely bewildered.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Of course it's mom, who else would be calling you in the morning to yell at you?"

"I don't know - some crazy lady who thinks it's normal to be awake at eight in the morning?" Wyatt's sarcastic reply made her smile. At least he was more awake.

"Wyatt," she warned.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Wyatt hastily apologized. She could hear sheets rustling and another boy telling Wyatt to shut up since 'some people were still trying to catch some Zs.' "Hold on, ma…" Wyatt whispered. She waited a few moments until Wyatt spoke again, his voice a normal volume this time. "So don't get me wrong - I love you and all, but why are you calling me so early?"

Brennan grinned even though Wyatt couldn't see her. Her son knew her too well. "I have a favor to ask," she began.

Wyatt groaned. "If you're asking me to find bugs for Hodgins…" he trailed off warningly, conveying without saying the words that he wouldn't do it.

_Ah, and he used to love playing with bugs, too_, Brennan reminisced wistfully. "No, no, it's nothing like that," she assured him. "This is actually pertaining to your expertise in music. Specifically, rap music."

On the other side of the line, Wyatt perked, a small crooked grin forming on his lips. "My expertise, huh?" he couldn't help but tease his mother. "Alright, what about it? And why the sudden interest?"

When Booth entered Brennan's office an hour later, she had two full pages worth of information from Wyatt, and was even listening to some of the artists he had recommended she'd 'check out'.

Booth raised his eyebrows as he watched Brennan bop her head along to the hip-hop music blaring from her computer speakers. "Never knew this side of you, Bones," he joked.

"It's DJ Mount," she told him, referring to the music. Wyatt had actually been a fan of DJ Mount's music and had been devastated to learn that he was dead - actually dead and not some sort of Houdini publicity stunt. He'd wished Brennan luck on the case and made her promise to catch the bad guy.

Booth walked around her desk to crouch next to her desk chair, placing a tender kiss to the side of her head. "You're hung over. Doesn't this make your head explode?" he asked her, concerned, fingers gently brushing through her soft hair.

She shook her head, smiling at his worry. "I grabbed a couple of hours of sleep on my couch and showered in my office bathroom," she assured him.

"Ooh, you really know how to live," he retorted sarcastically. Sighing, he shook his head. "I thought you said you were gonna go home?"

Brennan nodded, "I was. But then after I finished up here I was dead weary. I didn't want to risk being behind the wheel."

"Dead tired, Bones," he corrected her with a small smile. "And good call." He nodded towards the computer. "Why are you listening to this?"

"Research," she replied promptly. "Uh, Angela," she said, substituting her son's name for her friend's since Booth still had no idea who Wyatt was. "Said rap artists sometimes kill each other over the music…Jam Master Jay, Tupac, Biggie…" she listed off a few of the examples that Wyatt had given her.

Booth narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you even know who you're talking about?" he asked her dubiously.

She nodded. "Yeah. I've done my Google-ing," she said defensively.

"Yeah," he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

Brennan reached out, grabbing at his wrist to get his attention. "Listen," she urged. "You can hear the Alpha male asserting himself."

He shook his head. _Leave it to Bones to find anthropology in hip-hop, for God's sake_. "Don't I get a good morning kiss?" he asked, changing the subject.

Brennan's surprised gaze fell on him. "Booth!" she hissed, eyes darting quickly to her glass door, the wooden slats bunched up neatly at the top and leaving the door see-through for anyone passing by. "Someone might see."

"Ah," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "No one's out there. I think only Zack has arrived."

Brennan frowned. "Really? But it's close to eleven already…I know Angela might be hung-over, but why is Hodgins-"

Booth cut her off, large hand cupping her by the jaw and drawing her face closer to his for one of those soft, slow kisses he loved. Brennan didn't even try to fight him, turning her chair so that she was facing him and he could settle between her pant-clad legs. Her arms drew around his neck, her lips moving enthusiastically with his, his free hand placed high on her thigh.

She reluctantly pulled away, Booth gently pulling at her lower lip as she did so. Her eyes fluttered open, both of them breathing hard. She cleared her throat softly. "Hmm…Good morning," she teased, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

"Morning," he echoed, his voice gravely.

The sound of metal clanging, possibly someone dropping a tray of instruments on the floor, jolted them out of their little bubble. Brennan withdrew her arms from around his neck and Booth stood up, backing away a step or two from Brennan.

Trying to hide the pink flush on her ivory cheeks, Brennan stood up, averting her gaze from Booth, knowing that he would just be amused - and _smug_ - that he'd managed to get such a flustered reaction out of her. "I'm heading back to the club to meet the FBI forensics team," she informed him, grabbing her purse as she stood up. "I'm getting facts."

BBBBBBB

Booth and Brennan were on their way to talk to Rulz, finding enough evidence from the belly button ring with Rulz's name on it to question him.

"So…" Booth prompted, halfway through their silent drive.

Brennan turned her head, looking away from her window to look at Booth. "So…?" she repeated after him, brows furrowing together in confusion.

He sighed a little. "The vacation," he reminded her. "Jamaica? Have you thought any more about it?"

Brennan raised an eyebrow. "We're back to Jamaica?" she asked.

He nodded, giving her a brief look before turning his head to focus on the road ahead. "Yeah…The, uh, all the parrot talk…Not good," he joked. "Besides, I've been doing some research and, uh, I've found a couple of good places to go…"

Brennan gazed at him for a long time, her head tilted to the side as she took in the hopeful expression on his face and the tiny little smile playing on the edges of his lips.

Booth shot her a few looks as he drove. "What?" he asked, laughing a little.

She shook her head, an involuntary smile stealing across her lips. "Nothing," she said quickly. "It's just…You really want to go on this vacation, huh? With me?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I do," he replied, his tone somewhere between serious and playful.

"Why?" she asked, not at all malicious or sarcastic. Just curious.

He shrugged. "I want to get away for a little while," he admitted. "Sometimes I get that way. You know, we see, uh, all this murder and gore…And it gets to you, you know? And sometimes, I just wanna sit on a sandy beach and drink some weird island concoction and just forget about murder for a little while…"

Booth stepped on the brake, gently pulling to a stop as they came to a red light. He turned his head to look at her, his eyes holding her gaze as he continued. "And, this time, I just don't want to go on my own," he added.

"Hey, I like going on vacations by myself," she defended teasingly.

"Really?" he smiled.

She nodded. "Sure," she lifted one shoulder and let it drop back. "There's nothing wrong with being alone."

He chuckled. "No, I mean, you like to go on vacation?" he jibed, though he was actually surprised - she was so consumed with work, sometimes, and the last time she'd gone away that he knew about was to Guatemala…It wasn't a very 'vacation-y' sort of trip.

Brennan mocked glared at him, slapping him on the arm. "Yeah, Booth," she rolled her eyes. "I go places all the time."

"You ever just…You know, sit on a beach, pretend there are no such things as skeletons?" he wondered.

Brennan smirked. She did that all the time, actually. On camping trips with the twins - a Brennan family tradition that they had finally been able to include Zan and Tri in, since they were old enough now to follow instead of staying at home with Sylvia or Angela or even Christian. On enriching trips around the world, like to Italy last summer or to Japan the summer before that. On that trip to Bora-Bora for Rosalie's and Wyatt's twelfth birthday and on that trip to Disneyland for Demetri's latest birthday.

"Sometimes," she allowed, giving him a vague enough answer.

Booth eyed her dubiously. "When was the last time you got away?"

"Got away from what?" she asked, frowning bewilderedly at him.

Booth laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, Bones…" he sighed, trailing off. He shot a look at the red light to make sure it was still red before turning back to face Brennan. "You know, 'cause what usually happens to me…I think about not coming back."

She kept a curious smile on her face even as she felt a tiny shiver of dread at his words - it would devastate her if Booth ever up and left, disappeared into thin air out of nowhere, and never came back, never even gave a clue as to what had happened to him.

"Seriously?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You know, you go with someone, you joke about not going back to your real life…The two of you laugh," he shrugged. "But when you're alone, the world is full of possibilities."

Brennan gave him one of those rare crooked smiles that always made his heart thump a little faster and his knees grow weaker. "See, now, you're just trying to get me to say yes," she teased him in a soft voice, leaning a little closer to him.

And though he knew he hadn't been, and he knew she knew he hadn't been, he played along anyway. Just to lighten the mood. "Is it working?" he asked, his voice low as he, too, leaned in closer to her.

She sighed, looking away from him. "You know, I used to think like that," she admitted. "Just leaving everything behind and running away. Even back when I was a teenager. When my mom was around, I'd tell her that and she'd laugh, saying that I had commitment issues - when things get too hard or too real, I run."

Brennan drew her eyes back to Booth. "I have to admit that the idea of going away with you, for a real vacation…It scares me," she said, her hand reaching across the console to take his. "But it also…It makes me…Excited."

She gave him a little shy smile, turning pleading doe eyes on him. "Can you give me just a little more time?" she asked quietly. "I promise to think it through really well."

Booth stared into her eyes, seeing the startling vulnerability in them. That, and the fact that she had willingly volunteered a piece of her past…It made his heart melt. So he nodded, "Sure. Bones. Just…Give me an answer by this weekend? I need to confirm the bookings with the hotel."

She gave him a grateful smile in reply, closing what little distance there was between them to give him a proper, thankful kiss, her hands clasped on either side of his head, her lips meshing deliciously with his.

An angry car horn jolted them out of their embrace, and into the present. Brennan chuckled, the both of them blushing a little, and Booth laughed along with her. He put his hands back on the wheel and started to drive again, the light having turned green.

He gave her a sideways glance, still grinning like a fool. "Hot, Bones," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. "You're really hot."

The sexy, throaty Temperance Brennan laugh that followed his comment did not help tamp down his arousal.

The twenty minute make-out session in the backseat of his SUV where they got to second base, however, did.

They made it to Rulz's studio, both relaxed and ready to concentrate fully on their case. Rulz, when they found him, was sitting with a friend, listening to some tracks he'd recorded.

"Hello?" Booth called out at the door leading into the studio.

"Yeah, it's open," Rulz called back.

"Yeah, it's open," Booth repeated sarcastically. "FBI, Special Agent Booth," he introduced himself to Rulz as he stepped into the studio.

He wasn't particularly happy with the way Rulz was looking at Brennan, and the euphoria he'd been feeling thanks to the time he and Brennan had just spent faded a little when Rulz, still leering at her, commented, "What…Is the FBI recruitin' from America's Top Model now?"

Brennan looked on amused as Rulz gave her an appreciative once-over and Booth clenched his jaw, probably to stop himself from lashing out, his eyes flashing a little in anger.

She knew exactly what America's Next Top Model was - Rosalie had an addiction to the show, never missing out on an episode and always recording episodes so she could watch them again if she wished. She didn't understand the appeal of the show but Rosalie was obsessed - she'd mentioned quite a few times that if she wasn't so intelligent and had much higher ambitions, she would most definitely be a model because she was _clearly_ beautiful enough to be one.

"I'm a forensic anthropologist with the Jeffersonian," Brennan corrected Rulz, nevertheless flattered by his compliment. Or his confusion. It was high praise, even from a total stranger, when she'd already had four children and could still be thought of as a beautiful model.

"She works for the FBI," Booth added, glaring at Rulz.

"Yeah, I can live with that," Rulz grinned wolfishly at Brennan, not at all deterred that she was working with cops.

"Hey, a little respect, huh? Eyes off, huh, buddy?" Booth snapped, causing Rulz to tear his gaze away from the beautiful anthropologist and look towards him instead. "_Dr. Brennan_," Booth stressed her professional name. "Also discovered that Roy Taylor was murdered."

"So?"

Booth fought the urge to roll his eyes, but couldn't help the sarcastic comment from slipping past his lips, "So murder is whacked, see, 'cause those are the rules, Rulz."

Rulz simply shrugged, still unfazed. "Maybe he had it coming to him," he suggested crassly.

"Ah," Booth said knowingly. "So you and Roy Taylor don't get along."

"That sucker ran me down, man," Rulz defended himself angrily. "Tried to slam me on one of his tracks, and ain't nobody do that!"

"And, uh," Booth said, snatching a piece of sheet music Rulz had stuck on the wall, scanning it with disinterest. "What happens when they do?"

Rulz, glaring at Booth, snatched the sheet music from his hands. "I take a piece of him," he admitted proudly. "I got in his face one night at the basement and told him to disappear - and I ain't seen him since 'cause he knew to follow the rules," he said, laughing at his pun as he went over to sit on his couch.

"Ha, ha," Booth laughed sarcastically. "And maybe your, uh, girlfriend," he took out the small zip-lock bag with the belly button ring in it, shaking it a little as he held it up for Rulz to see. "Made sure your, uh, _problem_ just went away."

Rulz scoffed as he took in the ring. "That ain't my woman no more," he snapped. "I kicked her sorry ass out months ago."

"What is her sorry ass' name?"

"Eve Warren," Rulz revealed reluctantly.

"What was she doing with Mount?"

"Take a guess," Rulz snarked, scowling at Booth. "I guess it's his turn."

Booth looked at him disbelievingly. "She kept your ring?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

"It's a diamond, man," Rulz pointed out, in a tone of voice that showed he thought Booth was an idiot for even asking him this. "Why she gonna get rid of that?"

Booth frowned at that. "Any idea of where she is now?"

Rulz shrugged again, looking displeased at even having to continue talking about his ex girlfriend. "Probably ripping somebody else off," he sneered. "That girl don't care about anybody but herself." He paused before adding, "You know she got a kid? Don't care about her neither, let her brother shoulder that. Bitch."

Brennan, who had been paying close attention to detail on everything, from the furniture in the room to Rulz himself, spotted something on his hand. "What happened to your hand?" she interjected.

Rulz, thrown a little by the question directed at him from the gorgeous woman instead of intimidating cop, lifted his hand. "Oh, I got shot through the wrist a few years ago," he explained, showing her his injured hand. His tone was lighter now that he wasn't answering any more questions about his manipulative ex.

Brennan eyed the hand with interest, stepping up a little to see it better. "Shattered the lower radius," she noted in a sort of stunned voice. "And the pisiform."

"Yeah," Rulz agreed, even if he had no idea what she'd just said. "I got some nerve damage, too."

"That's impressive," Brennan commented, having no idea that Rulz somehow saw that as a sort of praise.

"Yeah, I got shot in the back and through the leg, too," he informed her, eager to impress her. "You wanna see the scars?" he stood up, reaching behind him with his hand to pull up his shirt and show her.

"Thanks," Booth interrupted sarcastically. Rulz, obviously understanding Booth's tone and scowl, dropped his shirt back into place. "Anyway, let us know if you, ah, hear from Eve?"

"That's all I got for ya all," Rulz shook his head. "I wanna get back to work." He turned to his friend, who had remained silent throughout the interrogation. "Let's hit it."

"You let us know if you hear from her," Booth reiterated before turning to walk out of the studio. He halted a few steps away when he realized that Brennan wasn't following him. Turning back around, he saw that Brennan was still standing where she had been before, watching intensely as Rulz and his friend turned up the recordings once more, discussing their latest song.

"Bones?" he prompted.

Without turning around, Brennan called out, "I like this music." She had never been a fan of hip-hop, and had liked it even less when Wyatt had started blasting it from his stereo at all hours of the day, it seemed. But listening to it now…She could see the appeal.

Booth rolled his eyes, walking back over to her to place his hand on the small of her back. "C'mon, Bones," he urged. "We've gotta go."

Even as he led her away from the studio, Brennan kept turning her head around to where Rulz and his friend were, her ears still picking up on the music she found she liked so much.

Booth was still seething - mostly in jealousy, though he'd never admit that out loud - when he and Brennan were in his SUV, driving back from Rulz's studio. "Okay, how about this?" he said, throwing out another scenario for what might've happened to Roy Taylor. "DJ Mount trusted Eve because they were sleeping together so she meets him in the wall, takes the drugs, kills him for Rulz, then takes off."

"Yeah, you should write fiction," Brennan told him.

"What? It's reasonable."

She shot him an incredulous look. "It's not based on evidence. It's conjecture," she disagreed.

Booth exhaled loudly, frustrated. "Look, I'm positing a scenario. Okay? I'm sorry if it's not as glamorous as the job the guy you were flirting with has, but we've been through this before."

"Yeah, and it always seems to be a waste of time," she insisted, ignoring his sarcastic jab. "Now, finding a marker on a bone…" she trailed off.

"I know…You know…" he sighed, cutting himself off, frustrated at his apparent inability to retort back at her. "I think I need a vacation," he said finally. "I think you do, too."

Brennan glared at him. _He's really going to bring this up every time we're alone?_ "I'm not the one who's snippy," she shot at him.

"Snippy?" Booth chuckled derisively. "What are you, like, seventy?"

"See what I mean?" she threw her hands in the air, shaking her head. "I think you should find a nice, relaxing place to go on that vacation. Somewhere where you can get a massage, maybe do some yoga…"

Booth shook his head. "I don't do yoga, okay?" He was slightly offended that she'd think he would do something that…Girly. "Push ups, sit ups, pull ups…That's what I do."

"Yeah, and while that works out very well for you," her eyes lingered on his clothed body, knowing fully well how toned and muscular he was under that Armani suit. "That's more cardiovascular. Yoga deals more with…"

He cut her off, the slight smile he'd had when she had _obviously_ checked him out slipping at the thought of a science-y lecture from her. "Why exactly are we talking about this?" he asked, sighing.

"Because you're tense," she replied immediately. "And you have a tendency to bring up our maybe vacation every time we're alone."

He blinked at her once, his face impassive, before he turned away and faced the road ahead. "You know what? We're not talking anymore. We're just gonna…Listen to some music, huh?" He reached out with one hand to flip on his car stereo. He frowned as an unfamiliar tune filled the car.

Recognizing Rulz's voice, he turned to Brennan and gave her a raised eyebrow. "You switched my music," he stated flatly. She didn't answer him, just pursed her lips to hide her amused smirk and bopped her head along to the music as she looked out her passenger's side window.

BBBBBBB

Booth had dropped Brennan off at the lab so that she could check in with Zack, who had been given the task to clean Roy Taylor's bones. He had gone over to the Hoover to get any information he could on Eve Warren. He came back to pick Brennan up with Eve Warren's brother's address - the brother she had left her daughter with, and the only real lead he had on her at the moment.

Eve's brother, George Warren, was a dance instructor. He owned a dance studio right underneath his apartment. That was where Booth and Brennan went to find him.

"What do you want?" George asked, frowning at the two of them. They were obviously not there for dance lessons and he wasn't a particular fan of suits.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI," Booth said by way of greeting, introducing himself. Nodding at Brennan, he added, "My associate, Dr. Brennan."

"What do you call this?" Brennan asked, pointing to the dancers George had been watching earlier, out in the main dancing area.

"Romp," George answered. "Kids, they come here, they dance…They don't gang back," he explained. "So what do you want? Didn't come here for a dance lesson."

He led Booth and Brennan back further from the dancers, leading them into his office. A little girl, about four years old, was sitting at his desk. "Hey, Maya," George said in a lighter, kinder voice, a smile lighting up his face as he addressed the little girl. "How ya doing, baby?"

George picked little Maya up, cradling her to his body. "C'mon, now, you're going to go outside and play with the rest of the kids, okay?" he urged. Maya nodded her head, smiling shyly, not used to Booth and Brennan. "There you go," George placed her down on her feet.

The moment her feet touched the floor, Maya did a little toddler run out the office door and into the waiting area. She must be familiar with the place - and the teenaged dancers outside - because she didn't even hesitate at George's suggestion, and both partners could clearly hear her screams of delight, when she had been quiet and shy just moments ago around them.

Once Maya was out of the room, Booth turned to George, his tone businesslike. "We would like to ask you a few questions about your sister, Eve," he told George.

George sighed, shaking his head at whatever trouble Eve might've cooked up that would've involved the FBI this time around. "What has she done now?" he asked wearily, as though he expected her to be nothing but trouble.

"When was the last time you saw her?" Booth questioned.

"About six weeks ago when she dropped off Maya," George answered promptly, remembering the unpleasant visit well.

"She just dropped her off and left?" Booth asked, unable to help the incredulity that was in his nature as an FBI agent. He _always_ had to question everything about everyone from every angle. It was what made him the best.

George nodded. "She told me she needed me to watch her for a couple of days, left me some money," he scoffed, thinking how exaggerated Eve's 'a couple of days' were.

"Do you, um, happen to have, I don't know, a recent photo we might take?" Booth asked George. He hadn't been able to find anything recent on Eve Warren, and he might need it to find her.

George sighed, "Evie said she had cleaned herself up. She was turning her life around and I believed her…" He turned and walked towards his table. "She never came back. That little girl out there…That's her daughter and she's like a daughter to me, too." He paused for a moment before reaching over, grabbing a picture frame propped up on the desk. He turned the frame over, undid the latch and took out the picture inside, handing it to Booth.

"Didn't it bother you that Evie never came back?" Booth questioned, taking the picture from George. "I mean, didn't you go look for her?"

George snorted a little at that. "I learned to let her go," was his reply. "Eve…She's had a lot of problems. Drugs, hanging out with the wrong people…I mean, if I track her down and she takes Maya before she's ready…I let nothing happen to that little girl."

Booth nodded, sensing that George Warren was telling the truth - he loved his sister and was hurt and disappointed by the choices she had made and continued to make, but he was loved Maya, too, and was fiercely protective of her. He wasn't guilty of anything. Booth could just feel it. "Did you know Roy Taylor?" he asked instead.

"Met him," George nodded in recognition of the name. "DJ Mount. I like his stuff. He's pure. I play it for the kids."

"We have a reason to believe that she was with him the night he was murdered," Booth informed George.

George reeled back, shocked. "Murdered?" he whispered, eyes wide. He was worried now, worried for Eve's safety in a way that he hadn't been for a long time. "And you can't find Evie?"

"No."

George began to shake his head, whether in denial or at the horrible turn of events. He went to sit at his desk, sinking down on his chair wearily. "She told me she loved him," he confessed. "That she and Mount were going to take Maya away, out of DC, and give her a better life - one we never had."

"You said she left you some cash?" Booth questioned.

"Uncle Georgie!" a sweet little voice called out. All three of them turned towards the door to find little Maya running into the office. She crashed clumsily into Brennan's legs, then staggered back a few steps. "Oh…I'm sowry," she whispered, her eyes filling up with tears the way that kids' eyes did sometimes whenever they felt they had done something wrong and was about to be punished for it.

Brennan laughed at the adorable little girl. "Oh, no, it's okay," she assured Maya. When the little girl continued to stare at her feet, sniffling ever two seconds, Brennan looked to George with a questioning look on her face. Seeming to understand what she was asking, George silently gestured with his hand, smiling sadly at Maya as he did so, giving Brennan permission to interact with his young niece.

Brennan crouched down in front of Maya. "You're Maya, right?" she asked the girl in a soft, amiable tone. Maya looked up at her in surprise before nodding, her tears already drying. "My name's Temperance."

Maya scrunched her nose up. "That's a long name," she commented. "I can't say it."

Brennan laughed. "Yeah, I know it is," she said in a sympathetic tone. "Tell you what, Maya. You can call me Tempe."

Maya giggled this time around. "Dat's funny," she placed a small hand to her mouth in an attempt to hide her laughter.

Instead of taking offense, Brennan grinned widely at Maya. "Yeah, I guess it is," she agreed. She nodded at the Barbie doll Maya clutched in one hand. "Is that your doll?"

"Mm-hmm," Maya nodded. "My mommy gave it to me. Her name's Billie, 'cuz I don't like the name Barbie."

Brennan nodded as though this was normal, adult conversation. "That makes sense," she assured Maya. "Every other girl in the world has a doll named Barbie. At least you're different."

"Diff-faw-wenn…" Maya drew out the word absently, running her hand through Billie the Barbie doll's hair, her gaze locked on the tiny plastic doll in her hand.

Booth watched Brennan continue to interact with the child, drawing out giggles and smiles from the shy little girl with complete ease. He had to admit - he was surprised. He had seen how well she had handled Shawn Cook, but he'd figured it had something to do with the fact that she and Shawn shared a bond through their similar experience in foster care. Now, though…Looking at her with Maya…Maybe it was something more.

And he was curious as hell to find out what it was.

Turning back to George, he stepped closer to the man to finish up with his questions without Maya hearing a word. He supposed it was a good thing that Brennan was distracting her.

"You said she left you some cash?"

George nodded. "Yeah. For Maya," he added quickly, so that the agent wouldn't think there was anything illegal going on, or ask for the money as evidence - he wasn't all that well off to begin with, and he needed that money to help pay for Maya's expenses.

Booth, understanding what wasn't said, narrowed his eyes and gave George a small smile. "I'll buy what you have - two dolls to the one."

George nodded, sighing once more as his worry over his missing sister crashed back down on him. "Sure. Whatever," he replied absently, his eyes straying towards Brennan and Maya once more. Somehow, Brennan had managed to get Maya to hug her, Billie held up in front of Brennan's face as Maya told her all about Billie's 'life story'.

"…And she has three ponies, and one big horse. They're called…Sparkly, and Rainbow and…Sugar and…Candy!" Maya made up on the spot.

George couldn't help a small smile at the sight. "You're really good with her," George said in a louder voice, addressing Brennan. "Have kids of your own?"

Brennan merely chuckled at his words. _Yes. Four, actually_. "I just…Baby-sat a lot when I was younger," she dismissed lamely. "But thank you. She's a very lively girl."

George smiled a little bigger, nodding at Brennan. "Thanks," he said. He shot Booth a look. "I'll go get whatever I have left of the money she gave me."

Booth nodded, shooting him a grateful look. When George went to his cabinet to retrieve the money, Booth leaned against the desk, his arms folded across his chest as he watched Brennan laugh heartily at whatever Maya was saying.

_Even if she's hiding something_, he thought to himself, a soft smile appearing on his lips. _She's so goddamn beautiful when she's like this…_

He had to wonder, and not for the first time either, how she would fare around Parker.

BBBBBBB

Booth couldn't stop complaining as they trekked towards his SUV parked outside of Rulz's studio. They had spent over two hours at the studio, first interrogating Rulz about Eve Warren's disappearance, then meeting up with a cadaver dog that Brennan for some reason had on her speed dial, then digging up a cadaver that said cadaver dog had found underneath the studio floor.

Once Brennan had overseen the proper retrieval of the remains trapped underneath the cement, she and Booth finally left the studio.

"Finally," Booth huffed as they stepped out of Rulz's studio. "Do you know how long we've been in there?"

Brennan rolled her eyes at him. "You're complaining again," she told him as they stepped inside the SUV and buckled themselves in.

"How can I not? I feel gross," he told her, whining in a way reminiscent of her four year old son. "I'm sweaty and gross and I just helped dig up a pile of human bones…"

"Booth," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"I can't even smell my deodorant anymore," he told her. "Here, smell me."

She shot him a glare, pushing him away from here. "I'm not going to smell you, Booth," she snapped. "Just…Drive us back to the lab, will you? You can take a shower in my bathroom, and I'm pretty sure you have one more spare suit in my bathroom wardrobe."

He threw her a grin and leaned across the console to press a brief, thankful kiss on her lips. "I knew I'm with you for a reason," he joked.

"Access to my private bathroom or the great sex?" she teased back. Her tone was so nonchalant that it made him choke but the happy twinkle in her eyes let him know she was just kidding.

He shook his head, laughing as he pulled away from the curb. _The sooner we get to that private bathroom the better_, he sighed internally. Shooting a sly, sideways glance at his partner, he couldn't help but feel disappointed that it was still daytime and during work hours. _If none of the squints are at the lab, Bones would be jumping in that shower with me_.

Once they reached the lab, Brennan got straight to work. The cadaver hadn't arrived yet, but she knew it would in a matter of minutes - Booth had sped simply because he'd been impatient to 'get the stink of decay' off of him. She instructed Zack to get the remains on an autopsy table up on the platform the moment it arrived, and try and get an ID from dental remains if it were possible.

"Why do you get the shower first?" Booth complained as they both made their way to her office.

"_Because_," she said exasperatedly, explaining this yet again for the thousandth time in half an hour. "I'm going to be quick and I need to be out there when the body comes in. You, on the other hand, are going to take your time."

He had to concede to that. "True." Snaking his hands towards her, his large hands cupped her hips and started to draw her closer. "Or…We could just conserve water and shower together," he suggested with a predatory grin.

She chuckled warmly as she swatted his hands away. "Not during work hours, and definitely not during an investigation, Booth," she chided gently. "Besides, I think at least Angela would be suspicious if we were to draw the blinds and jump in the shower together."

"She'd never know," he shrugged. "We can say that I waited on your couch and we took turns."

"She has a sixth sense about these sort of things," Brennan insisted. "You just…Wait on the couch," she repeated his earlier words, smiling at his disappointed pout. "I'll just be five minutes."

She was quick, barely in and out for three minutes. "All yours," she threw over her shoulder at Booth as she grabbed her lab coat from the coat rack, slipping it on and hurriedly throwing her hair up into a ponytail.

"Let's get to work, shall we?" she called out to her team, seeing that the remains had already been placed on the autopsy table.

Half an hour later, the entire squint squad were crowded around the cadaver. Zack, holding up an x-ray containing dental records, turned to Brennan. "Dental records confirm that this is Eve Warren," he informed his mentor.

Hodgins, a report in his hand, added, "Insect activity confirms that she died around the same time DJ Mount did."

"Where's Booth?" Angela questioned, looking around the platform for the hunk of FBI muscle. "I thought he'd be all over this."

Brennan, looking over Hodgins' report as well as the dental records Zack had procured, answered her without looking up. "He's taking a shower," she replied. "Zack, I want you to clean the bones."

"Taking a shower?" Angela beamed widely at Brennan. "In the decontamination stalls? Ooh…" her eyes took on a hazy look as she started to fan herself with her sketch pad. "Don't you just have a fantasy where you walk in on him showering and things get all hot and steamy?"

Brennan chose not to answer that.

Hodgins, on the other hand, gave Angela a leery look. "Not me, I don't swing that way," he joked. "But I do get flashes of you and me in there sometimes."

Angela giggled at his words, causing Brennan to roll her eyes at their antics. It would be beyond unfair for her to chide the two of them on unprofessional work behavior, however, considering she and Booth were in a relationship and had engaged in intercourse when they had been on their way to interrogate a suspect before.

"He's not in the decontamination showers, he's in my bathroom," Brennan replied to Angela's earlier question.

Zack, completely ignoring the conversation around him, said, "We've already got cause of death and identity. What am I looking for?"

Angela gawked at Brennan. "Your bathroom? Your private bathroom…? Sweetie…You never let anyone use your bathroom," she said, stuttering as though this was a huge deal.

Brennan gave her best friend a look even as she addressed her grad student, "It might be grasping but that odd mark we found on Mount's skull…See if you can find anything like it on Eve's remains for me," she instructed.

Turning to Angela, she said, "That's because if I let you use my bathroom, you'd sneak in one of your boyfriends in there and you'd have shower sex in there," she pointed out a very possible scenario. "Booth is merely using my bathroom to shower."

"That you know of," Hodgins couldn't help but joke. At Brennan's glare, his smile drooped and he cleared his throat, looking away and pretending to find something else on the corpse that was fascinating to him.

"Sweetie," Angela said in a patient tone. "You gave him an all access pass to your bathroom…This is big."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I didn't give the man an all access pass to my bathroom," she said, irritated. "I told him he could shower in there, once, because he was complaining too much about smelling like dead things. I was annoyed, I told him to shower. That's it, okay!"

Angela frowned. "He's still going to wear his clothes, though, Bren…It doesn't matter if he showers or not right now," she pointed out, hoping to push her friend to see the light and accept the fact that there was something between her and her partner. They would make such a hot couple, she thought excitedly.

If Brennan would've thought before she spoke, the way she never did whenever she was in a setting that was even remotely social in any way, she wouldn't have unthinkingly blurted out, "He has a change of clothes in my office."

Angela let out a small, shrill squeal. "Oh, come on, Brennan!" she laughed. "You have got to give me the dirt."

"What dirt?" Brennan asked, confused. "I think that is more Hodgins' field of expertise."

Hodgins lifted his head to glare at the two women. "'Dirt' means nothing to me," he stated defiantly.

Angela rolled her eyes at the two of them. "No, sweetie…I meant, tell me what's going on between you and Agent Studly."

Brennan shook her head, giving Angela a stern look. "There's nothing going on between me and Booth."

Angela scoffed. "Yeah, right. I believe that," she said sarcastically. "Why on earth would he keep a spare of clothes in your freakin' office if nothing's going on between the two of you?"

"_Because, Angela_!" Brennan exhaled loudly, irritated beyond belief. She had underestimated just how annoyingly persistent her best friend could be once she had something in her head. Booth and I are going to be more careful, she decided silently. "He keeps a spare suit in there on the rare chance that something might happen to the one he's wearing at the moment. Okay? Sometimes, during a difficult case, none of us go home for a day or two. We stay at the lab, or out on the field until we can catch a lead. Or, sometimes, things like digging up dead bodies comes up and Booth would like to change so that he could continue on with the rest of his day smelling like he'd actually taken a shower in the morning."

"He keeps a spare in my office, like he does in his office, for the same reason I do, okay?" she finished her little rant, looking Angela straight in the eyes.

Angela sighed, giving up - for now. "Okay. Fine, sweetie," she said in a defeated tone.

Brennan nodded, wiping a hand down her face wearily. "I just…This is a work environment, Ange. I don't want you going around saying things to make it all tense and awkward," she said.

Angela held up both her hands in a show of surrender. "I won't," she insisted. "I promise."

Brennan nodded, relaxing slightly. "Good, thank you." She held up the information Hodgins and Zack had gotten, waving it a little. "I'm going to go see if he's done…He's going to want to know this."

Brennan went down the steps leading up to the platform, trying not to rush too much in her panic to reach Booth because she knew Angela would still be watching.

The blinds to her office window and doors were drawn and when she stepped inside, she knew why. Booth was standing by her couch, his clothes strewn over the sofa. He was wearing a pair of funny, striped socks, a pair of boxers and a new white dress shirt he was buttoning up. He was pant-less and had obviously been dressing in the middle of her office.

"Hey, babe," Booth greeted Brennan. "What's with the panicked face?"

Brennan glared at him as she closed the door behind her and locked it. "First of all - don't call me 'babe'," she shot at him.

He simply grinned in response. Ah. She's gotten used to 'Bones'. She'll get used to 'babe', too. "And secondly?"

"And secondly," she repeated, walking over to him. She threw the papers she was holding onto her coffee table. "Secondly, Angela is getting suspicious. She made a big deal about you taking a shower in my bathroom…" Brennan shook her head. "I told you. I told you she has a sixth sense about these sort of things."

She stepped closer towards him, her hands swatting his away as she nimbly buttoned up the rest of his buttons for him. Booth smiled at her affectionately, his arms going around her tiny frame so that his hands could smooth down her back. "Do you still think going away together is such a good idea?" she asked him, worried. "What if they catch on?"

"They won't," he insisted. "You just ask your boss for some time off, and I've already got my time off…It's not like the squints and I are close or anything. I'd be gone the whole week and they would never even know. And you…" His hands pressed gently on her back, drawing her to his body. "You need a vacation. They'll understand."

She nodded, even though she knew she would never be able to use that 'vacation' line with Angela. Or Goodman. Or Hodgins and Zack, even. They all knew about Rosalie, Wyatt, Zan and Demetri. They would be suspicious about the fact that she was taking a vacation all alone, in the middle of November, and leaving her children behind.

"Yes, I was thinking about that," she said seriously. "And I was thinking I'd just tell them I'm going to a conference or something. Much more believable."

She held her breath, waiting to see if he bought it, and was pleasantly surprised when he did. Shrugging, Booth nodded. "Okay, whatever you want," he agreed, smiling as he leaned down to kiss her.

She giggled a little when his hands tickled her sides. "You do realize that we're talking as though I've already agreed to go on this vacation with you," she said, reminding him without actually saying it that she hadn't, in fact, said 'yes'.

"In my mind, you have," he grinned boyishly at her, bringing his face down to hers once more.

"Mm…" he chuckled, giving her an Eskimo kiss when they pulled away, just to see that adorable little smile on her face. "You know what?" he pulled away from her, going over to the other end of her couch where his dirty pile of clothes lay.

"What?" she asked, watching as he rooted around in his suit jacket for something.

Booth pulled out a few folded pieces of paper. "I printed this off the web," he said, handing it to her.

Brennan took it from him, a suspicious smile on her face as she unfolded the papers. "Information on a B&B?" she asked, her eyes scanning the words printed on the three pages he'd handed her.

"Uh-huh," Booth nodded, reaching for his clean pair of pants and stepping into them. "It's the place we're gonna stay in on our vacation if we go. I checked out the website, and it's supposed to be really nice. Right there on the beach, too. Secluded. Not really a party spot, but we're not too far away from some great clubs if we want to have a loud night out…Which works out great for us, I think."

He tucked in his dress shirt into his pants, sliding on his Cocky belt buckle, watching Brennan as she looked through the information and pictures of the B&B he'd gotten off their website. "Wow…" she murmured, brushing her thumb against a picture of a large, fluffy-looking bed with a white netting placed over the four poster walls, looking out over French doors opening to the beach, a view of the sun setting in the horizon. "You really did your research."

She looked up at him, biting her lower lip.

"Hey," he said, stepping towards her to embrace her warmly. "You don't have to make up your mind right now. We still have time." He placed his thumb and forefinger underneath her chin, tilting her head up so their eyes could meet. "I'm just trying to lure you into saying yes."

She chuckled a little, blinking back the little bit of tears that had irritatingly accumulated in her eyes. When Booth leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, she slid her free hand up to his hair - untouched by his shower since he didn't have any gel with him to style his hair all over again - and kept him firmly in place, mouth fused to hers, until they were both short of breath, hearts pounding madly in their chests.

"What was that for?" Booth gasped, reaching out to smooth back a few tendrils of her curly hair.

Brennan shrugged. "I just…Felt like it," she said lamely, her thumb gently brushing against his lips to remove traces of her lip gloss. "Take this," she said, bending to retrieve the information Hodgins and Zack had given her earlier. "The cadaver we found is Eve Warren. Go on outside to see if the others have found anything else."

He nodded. "Alright. You coming?"

She shook her head. "I've got something to do…I'll be out in a few minutes," she assured him.

Figuring that whatever it was she needed to do had something to do with their latest bit of 'discussion' regarding their maybe vacation, Booth simply nodded. He didn't want to push her too far. "Okay," he agreed easily, ducking his head to press a gentle kiss to her cheek.

Brennan watched as Booth, slipping into his new suit jacket, unlatched the lock on her office door and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Once she was sure he was gone, hearing his footsteps fading, she rushed to her side table by her cabinet and grabbed her cell phone. She pressed speed dial number 2, and waited as the phone rang.

She knew she needed to talk to someone about this, to get someone else's perspective on this. She needed advise from another woman. Normally, she would've talked to Angela, but her adult-shaped best friend was unaware of her relationship with Booth and Brennan simply wasn't ready for all the squeals and hugs and constant badgering of information if Angela were to find out. She and Booth were still trying to find solid ground, and Angela butting in all the time wouldn't be very helpful. She loved Angela, but she could sometimes be a little too pushy without even realizing it.

So, instead, she was calling her teenaged-shaped best friend.

"Mom?"

Brennan smiled in relief as Rosalie finally picked up. "Rose, hi," she said into the phone. "Are you busy?"

"No, not at all," Rosalie replied. "We're just done with our hiking for today, so we're taking a break before the canoeing competition…What's up? Is this about the DJ Mount case?"

Brennan wasn't the least bit surprised that Rosalie knew about it - Wyatt and Rosalie, despite being incredibly competitive with each other and clashing at every turn, were very close and shared pretty much every thing as possible. They attributed it to some twin bond no one else would understand.

"No, it's not about the case," she replied immediately. "This is something more…Personal."

"Personal?" Rosalie asked, walking away from her group of friends who always seemed to be interested these days whenever topic of her celebrity writer mom came up. She didn't need them overhearing things they shouldn't overhear. "Personal like…'Booth' personal?"

"Yes," Brennan sighed, sinking down on her couch and staring at the papers she held in her hand. "I didn't tell you this, but…"

"Oh, my God!" Rosalie interrupted her, gasping loudly. "You're pregnant again!"

"What!" Brennan was startled. "_No!_ No, Rose! What…Where would you even get an idea like that?"

Rosalie breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't know!" she said defensively. "You're not even thirty and you have four kids…It's not such an outrageous assumption. Now tell me what's up," she ordered.

"Booth has brought up the subject of going on vacation together," she admitted. "He brought it up a few days ago, said something about Jamaica…He printed out papers and wants to make reservations by this weekend…"

"Wow," Rosalie said, stunned. "Vacation, huh? You guys have only been going out for, what, three months? Not to mention it's all hush-hush."

Brennan shook her head, confused. "Well, I don't know what that means," she stated, not surprising Rose at all. "But he wants to go. He's taken time off for Thursday next week, and he wants me to go."

"Jamaica," Rosalie mused, shaking her head in awe. "God, that's incredible…"

"Mm-hmm," Brennan couldn't help humming in agreement. She had been to Costa Rica before, the other location Booth had considered, but never Jamaica. From what she'd read and heard, however, it was great. "It's a bed and breakfast," she said, scanning the pages of information he'd given her earlier once more. "There are coral cliffs…And snorkeling. Kayaking."

"Oh, you have to go," Rosalie said, grinning at how perfect that romantic getaway sounded. And if Booth was making such an effort…Now, she had never personally met the man yet, since her mother was intent on making sure her partner could handle knowing her big, bad secret. She knew that Brennan was probably just stalling because she was afraid, but that was more psychology than she liked, and she hated psychology, especially since that dolt Peter came into their lives - and left it, for good. She had seen pictures of Booth, though, taken and saved on her mother's phone, and he was a very handsome man. He even had that brave knight thing going for him, which was just really hot.

"You think?" Brennan sounded nervous.

"Definitely," Rosalie nodded. "Look, mom, I love you. And I love that you're always either consumed with your work, or consumed with our family. But…Let's face it. You haven't gone on a vacation for yourself in…Ever."

"Wha…That's not true!" Brennan protested.

"Excavation digs and missions to save the world doesn't count, mom," Rosalie interrupted. "And vacations with us isn't exactly the same, either. When we go together as a family…It's all kids menu and making sure Sylvia comes so you don't get too beat and tame swimwear."

She allowed a wolfish grin to spread across her face. "But with Booth…You can let loose, have a little fun," she added.

"You don't think it's too soon?" Brennan questioned, biting on her lower lip. "You said it so yourself - we've only been dating for three months."

"Yeah," Rose agreed. "But I've never seen you happier. And that's what counts."

BBBBBBB

"Ooh, nice," Rosalie teased, holding up a sexy black g-string that had been sitting on top of a pile of clothes Brennan had on her bed.

Brennan glared at her daughter. "Put that down, I'm not taking it with me," she said, sighing as she stared despondently at the scant amount of clothes she had in her open suitcase.

It was Wednesday night. Rosalie and Wyatt had returned from their trip in the morning and Brennan had spent the entire day with them and the two little boys.

She had gone to Goodman, telling him she was going to be taking the week off to attend some conference out in Virginia. She was accomplished enough and well respected enough that he hadn't pressed for any details.

Now, Wednesday night, in between viewings of 'Lara Croft: Tomb Raider' and 'The Notebook', Rosalie was helping Brennan pack for her vacation with Booth that she was set to leave on just the day after.

"Why not?" Rosalie asked, frowning at her mother. "You've hardly packed anything."

Brennan sighed once more, sinking down on the edge of her bed. "I know," she agreed. "I just don't have anything appropriate to wear to Jamaica."

"Nonsense," Rosalie rolled her eyes. "You're stalling because you're getting cold feet." She shot the g-string with precision, the little scrap of material landing perfectly in her suitcase. "You're taking that with you because it's sexy and perfect to wear on a sexy island getaway with your hot boyfriend."

Brennan rolled her shoulders back. "Rosalie…" she trailed off warningly.

Rosalie ignored her, jumping off the bed and heading for the closet. "Now, come on, help me look for your holiday clothes - we've gone to beaches before. You'll manage," she insisted.

Brennan smiled as she stood up and walked over to her daughter. Wrapping her arms around her thirteen year old, "Thank you. For helping me."

Rosalie looked over her shoulder to give her mother a rare, soft smile. "It's what we do, right?" she said, repeating something that Brennan had told her multiple times before in the past. "We help each other out."

Brennan chuckled, smoothing back her daughter's bangs and kissing her gently on the forehead. "Right," she agreed.

"You know, you and Booth missed step two and step three," she told her mother, out of nowhere.

"Step two and step three?" Brennan questioned, the two of them swaying together gently, Brennan's arms still around Rosalie.

"Mm-hmm…One, spend the night. Two, spend the weekend," Rosalie started to list off. "Three, exchange keys. Four, sexy weekend getaway. Five, extended vacation and, inevitably followed by, six. Move in together."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Okay," she chuckled, shaking her head and smiling at Rose. "I'm an anthropologist. I know the stages of everything. You made those up."

"I did not," Rosalie laughed.

"Yes, you did."

Rose beamed cheekily at her mother. "I didn't," she insisted. "Angela did…But the woman has been in about a million relationships. She knows what she's talking about."

Brennan shrugged. "Maybe, but she doesn't know everything," she countered easily. "Those steps are phony."

Rosalie stayed in her mother's embrace for a few more seconds, just enjoying the mother-daughter moment, before stepping away. "Okay, let's go - this cute little green top or this blue one? Personally, I'd go for the green - casual enough for a day out on the beach, but classy enough if you want to wear it to a club at night…Ooh! And remember that red sarong you bought a few months back on that shopping trip with Angie? Where's that?"

It had taken them three hours to finally pack a suitcase for Brennan's trip.

Rosalie had to convince Brennan to bring only one book when she had wanted to bring five different ones - they'd compromised on two, one an anthropological journal and one fantasy novel Rose thought she might enjoy (Narnia).

Brennan had tried to dissuade Rose from putting in every piece of 'sexy lingerie' she could find in Brennan's underwear drawer, but her daughter had managed to wear her down eventually. "_Oh, come on, mom_," Rose had said, putting in a red teddy into Brennan's suitcase. "_What's the point of a romantic getaway if you don't get yourselves in the mood?_"

Finally, the day has come. Christian was 'too busy with work' to take Zan and Demetri for the duration of her vacation, so Sylvia was going to be staying over for the week to keep an eye on things.

"Bye, mom," Wyatt said, hugging her at the door of their apartment as she prepared to leave. "I'd say 'have fun' but then I'd have to wash my brain out with bleach."

Brennan furrowed her eyebrows together and opened her mouth to say her 'signature catchphrase', as Angela had called it once, but Rose stepped forward, shoving Wyatt out of the way to hug her mother. "Well, I'm not a wuss," she stated playfully. "I'm not afraid to say have all the fun you can cram into a week."

"When did you two get so perverted?" Brennan asked, rolling her eyes as she realized that Wyatt and Rose were probably talking about sex.

"Twelfth birthday," the twins answered simultaneously.

Sylvia laughed. "Alright, Dr. B.," she said, looking at her watch. "You're going to be late. Hug Zan and Tri goodbye and we can go."

"Bye, mommy!" Zan dashed straight into her arms. "I love you!"

"Bye!" Tri echoed, hugging her at the same time as Zan. "Love you, too."

"Don't forget to buy me a present," Zan added brightly as Brennan kissed him and his brother and pulled back.

She laughed. "I won't," she promised. She waved at the four of them. "Bye, guys!"

Sylvia drove her to Wong Foo's, where she was supposed to meet Booth, before driving Brennan's car back to the apartment.

She walked into Wong Foo's, suitcase handle in her hand as she rolled it along behind her. She spotted Booth easily, sitting at the bar in his usual seat. His head was tilted towards the TV hanging above the bar and as she approached, she could see that the news reporter on screen was giving a report on the DJ Mount case she and Booth had just solved.

Booth, getting annoyed by a reminder of their case, grabbed the remote Sid had placed near him earlier on and turned off the TV. He didn't want to think about work right now. He was at Wong Foo's, drink in hand, luggage in the car, waiting for his gorgeous partner to show up so they could leave for their weeklong vacation. He did _not_ need to think about work.

"Getting yourself in the mood?" Brennan teased as she slid into her usual seat at the bar next to him, placing her suitcase right next to her.

Booth turned, a large smile lighting up his face at the sight of her. "I was trying to," he admitted. "But you're here, so I'm good now."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "On anyone else, that would've been cheesy," she told him. Wanting that cocky grin to disappear, she narrowed her eyes and said, "No, wait…It's still cheesy."

He leaned towards her, his fingers automatically seeking out her silky tresses. Something about how soft her hair is…It's just so sexy to me, he hissed in his mind. "Well, we're about to go on our vacation to Jamaica - I'm allowed to be cheesy," he insisted, drawing her closer so he could brush a kiss to her lips.

"Come on," he pulled back, downing the last of his drink and placing his empty glass back on the table. "Let's get going - don't wanna miss the flight."

And even as she argued with him when he tried to get her bag for her, and even when he tried not to let his head explode trying to explain to her why it just wasn't a good idea to exchange their coach seats for first class ones using her connections or her money, Booth placed a hand on the small of her back, and Brennan leaned into his side, tiny little smiles on their lips the whole time.

And everything was just perfect.

* * *

Like always, tell me how it is - this episode was definitely the longest (I wonder if I'm going to be saying this after every episode from now on) and it has more interactions between BB, Brennan-Wyatt and Brennan-Rosalie. I think Zan and Tri are going to play small, barely there roles until a) Parker's in the picture as well and b) Zan, Tri and Parker are slightly older.

Just to let you know, in case any of you are wondering, I'm planning to do all episodes until the 100th episode, because anything after that is way too AU and pointless to do - the whole 'moving on' thing wouldn't have happened since they're already together right from the start anyway.

Alright, so next up is 'A Man on Death Row'. I'm not sure at this point if 'the reveal' will be in the next one or the one after that, but it's definitely between these two since I want BB to know each other's secret before Christmas, which is the ninth episode.

Please, tell me how you found this episode/chapter, and the modifications I've done to the original script to fit in my AU fantasy world.

Thank you so much for reading and for those who have reviewed.

Juliet.


	7. A Man on Death Row

The Clandestine Affair

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

* * *

_November 22, 2005._

Seeley Booth was having a great day.

He'd started his morning with his naked partner in his bed, and later on, a phone call to his son. Brennan had made him the 'infamous Christine Brennan crepe pancakes' that her mother used to make for breakfast when she was younger. He was on time to work for the first time in a week and he hadn't spilled coffee on his new expensive suit. He'd gotten a nod from his boss' boss in the elevator, which was as good as a pat on the back and large warm smile and a 'great job, son!'

He'd had a minimal stress day, completed most of his paperwork - which was great because that meant he didn't have to deal with stacks of them piling up and giving him migraines - and he'd gone home at a reasonable hour, with just enough time to spare for a shower and a change of clothes before picking Brennan up to go to that new French restaurant she'd been dropping hints about. He'd even had a pleasant time at dinner even if he'd thought he would hate it because he hated French food - Jacques' had Steak au poivre, which was amazing.

And then, as he was parked right outside her apartment building, the two of them making out like two teenagers and him being five seconds away from telling her that whatever secret she had up in her apartment (which he'd figured had something to do with her puppy-owning roommate 'Rose') he didn't care, all he wanted was to get her upstairs and out of that silky, sexy blue dress she had on…When she pulled back, hair mussed, lipstick smeared, eyes glassy with that lusty look he was so familiar with on her…And spoke.

"I want a gun."

_Wait - what!_

"I want a gun," Brennan repeated, and he'd realized he'd said his thoughts out loud.

He blinked at her a few times, trying to clear his head and make sure that he wasn't just imagining this completely Twilight Zone moment. "Why?" he asked, stunned.

She shrugged. "I thought it was obvious," she said. And when he remained silent, she elaborated, "I'm with the FBI now. I need a gun."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no, no, no, no," he denied, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "I'm with the FBI. You're with the Jeffersonian. Our paths just happen to cross occasionally at work."

Brennan glared at him. "'Our paths cross occasionally'!" she reached out to smack him on the arm as hard as she could, ignoring his yelp of pain. "We're partners, Booth. Actual partners. That's more than just 'occasionally'!"

"Well, that's exaggerating things, huh?"

"Last week, when we met Rulz, you introduced me and said I work for the FBI," she pointed out.

_Damn her flawless memory_, he cursed silently in his head. "Well, you know what? I was trying to intimidate him. 'FBI' is just a tad more intimidating than 'scientist', okay?" he dismissed, leaning back against his seat.

Brennan glowered at him, her lips pursed, her jaw set and her arms crossed stubbornly across her chest.

Booth sighed as he gazed at her. I know that look, he thought despondently. "You're not going to give up, are you?" he asked her, his tone knowing.

"Not a chance."

And that was why, the next day, even after arguing about it all the way from his office to the conference room, Booth and Brennan sat opposite each other, Booth scribbling away on a request form.

"Name?" Booth asked, intending to annoy her as much as possible since she was too damn stubborn to listen to him.

"You know my name," Brennan replied, glaring at him. _He's being so childish_, she huffed silently. "In fact, you screamed it out loud just this morning in the back of your SUV."

He lifted his head to shoot her a stern look. _Yeah, and that's the only reason why I'm relaxed enough to be going through this_, he retorted in his mind, knowing that she would probably break his wrist if he said it out loud. So, instead, he stuck with a more professional, "Bones, you are making an official request to the FBI to be allowed to carry a concealed weapon. I have to follow protocol.

"It's ridiculous."

"Fine," Booth put down his pen, sliding the mostly empty application form over to her. "Then we're done here. Do you want to get some coffee?"

Brennan sighed, sliding the form clipped to a brown clipboard back to him, realizing that she wasn't going to win this one. "My name is Dr. Temperance Brennan," she stated sulkily.

Booth hid his grin as he wrote down her name on the form. "Reason for wanting a gun?"

"To shoot people," was her blunt reply.

Booth rolled his neck, giving her an exasperated look. "Not a good response," he informed her. _God, I'm gonna need her to use some of that special massage oil thingies she's so fond of later tonight…I'm getting a cramp here just dealing with this crap_.

"It's the truth."

Ignoring her, Booth jotted down a more appropriate response. "You know, I'm writing 'self defense in the performance of my duties pursuing suspected felons as contracted out to the FBI'," he muttered out loud as he wrote.

"So I can shoot them," Brennan nodded.

Booth didn't add that, moving on instead to the next question. "Have you ever been charged with a felony?" he asked, knowing perfectly what her answer should be.

"Charged or convicted?" she shot back, just to get a rise out of him.

"Charged."

She gave him a look. "You know I have."

She sounded irritated enough to lift her foot under the table and kick him in the balls. "I have to ask the questions," he quickly defended himself.

"Bureaucratic nonsense," she scoffed, scowling.

"Nevertheless," he shrugged. "Name of the arresting officer?" he got back to business.

"You," Brennan deadpanned. At the annoyed glance Booth threw her, Brennan rolled her eyes. "Special Agent Seeley Booth. Do you need me to spell that for you?" she asked him sarcastically.

"I can sound that out," Booth retorted, equally sarcastically, in a hushed tone.

She ignored that. "So when do I get the gun?" she asked, eager to have her own gun to bring out into the field. Booth sucked in a breath, straightening up and making sure his smug, happy smirk didn't show on his face as he reached to his right and grabbed the pre-ink stamp he'd made sure to bring along with him earlier. Stamping the application, he held up the clipboard so that Brennan could see the word 'DENIED' stamped in big red letters.

"You can't have a gun," he informed her in a carefully monotone voice.

"Why not!" she sounded truly affronted - and baffled - by this.

"Because you were charged with felony," Booth reminded her.

Brennan scowled at him. "Write down that you were wrong to charge me," she urged him.

"Oh, there's no space for that," he joked, knowing that even if he did write it down, it would've made no difference.

Brennan stared at him with anger flaring in her eyes. "Why did we go through all this if you were never going to give me a gun?" she demanded.

"You have a constitutional right to apply for a weapon," he answered her immediately. "I would never deny your constitutional right."

"Well, uh, I need a gun."

"Rules are rules."

She wasn't remotely satisfied by that - and why should she, either? She'd never really responded well to rules. "Tell them that…I shot a murderer who was going to light me on fire," she urged once more. After all, that was nothing but the truth.

"Which is why you weren't convicted," he pointed out. "But you did shoot an unarmed man. I…I can't ignore that. I'm sorry, Bones. I swore an oath to protect society from people who shoot people."

"You're making me sound like I'm some sort of lunatic who goes around shooting people without cause," she grumbled.

"Well…" he trailed off teasingly, eyes narrowed in mock contemplating.

Brennan's jaw dropped and she smacked him on the shoulder. "Booth!" she complained, causing him to laugh as they both stood up. "It was only his leg and he's in jail for the rest of his life. How much is he going to use it anyway?"

"You have a right to an appeal," he offered, trying to soothe her a little.

"To whom?" she asked instantly. Booth shook his head, an almost sympathetic look on his face. "Cullen?" Brennan guessed correctly. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're right," he chuckled, the two of them walking out of the conference room and through the bullpen to head to his office. He wanted more than anything to draw his arm around her shoulders and kiss her on the cheek - but partners wouldn't do stuff like that, so he settled for his hand on the small of her back.

"Bones, you don't need a gun," he assured her. "If anyone needs shooting, I'll do it."

"But," she protested, her voice taking on a slight whine that would've been annoying on anyone else. "What if you're injured - or dead! - and someone still needs shooting?"

Booth threw her an annoyed glare.

"I'm not hoping it will happen," she added hastily. "I'm just stating a possibility."

"Ah, come on, you know what, Bones?" he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "You're a professor, you're not an FBI agent. Okay? Use your mutant powers - just talk people to death.

Brennan didn't reply to that verbally. Instead, she merely glowered at him with the fierce expression she usually reserved for annoying, incompetent students she had no patience for.

Of course, Booth being Booth, he didn't start shaking on the spot or burst out crying.

He _did_, however, wear a contrite expression on his face and shoot her a puppy dog look with his brown eyes. "Ah…You're going to kick my ass later for that, aren't you?" he said knowingly, swallowing hard.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, turning her gaze away from him to look straight ahead.

She hadn't shaken his hand from her back, and she hadn't ripped him a new one. He took that as a good sign. "Aw, come on, Bones…" he cajoled, charm smile in place. "I was just joking…Come on. We'll go for lunch later, I'll buy you flowers, we'll be good."

Brennan chuckled, unable to help a smile slowly spreading across her lips - he was contagious, like that. "Don't use your charm on me, Booth. I'm mad at you and I'm going to stay mad at you," she chided, but her words had no bite to them.

They were so wrapped up in their little bickering session that as they entered his office, they failed to notice the red-headed woman waiting in there until she spoke.

"Am I interrupting?" Amy Morton asked, watching in amusement as both partners started, their heads snapping her way.

The pleased little grin that had been on Booth's face slipped as he looked at her. "I told them not to let you in this building," he muttered, feeling the oncoming sign of a throbbing headache just at the sight of the lawyer. "I gave them your picture."

Amy merely smirked with the confidence of a woman who knew she was sexy enough to get through the hardest shells, and used it well. "Which is why I wrote the tiny skirt," she quipped.

Booth rolled his eyes. "Very cute," he snarked sarcastically, stalking towards the office cabinet behind his desk to get the appeals form for Brennan so she could leave - he didn't want Brennan anywhere near Amy Morton and if that meant hurrying her out of the Hoover while Amy was in it, then so be it.

To his chagrin, as he looked for the reapplication form, Amy was busy getting herself acquainted with Brennan.

"Amy Morton," Amy introduced herself, holding out her hand for Brennan to shake.

"Temperance Brennan."

"You work with Booth?" Amy asked, raising an eyebrow as she subtly gave 'Temperance Brennan' a once over. _Pretty_, she decided. _She's got that angelic sort of look going for her_.

Brennan nodded, a little unsure of how to react to this woman but unwilling to show any signs of discomfort whatsoever. "Yes, I'm a forensic anthropologist," she replied.

Amy nodded. She'd never worked with a forensic anthropologist before, but she'd read about Booth's partnership with Dr. Brennan, of course. She'd done her research, knew that Brennan could be just what she - and her client - needed desperately. "I'm a defense lawyer," Amy told Brennan without being asked. "I tend to work _against_ Booth."

_Of course she's a lawyer_, Brennan thought, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. _Is there some sort of fetish Booth has involving lawyers?_ She made a mental note to ask him about it later. Booth, turning around with the appeals form in hand, waving it around madly. "If it's all the same," he interrupted their little get-to-know-each-other moment. "I prefer you two didn't bond in any way."

Brennan actually did roll her eyes at this. "Hey, I want to get back to the lab," she said, knowing that her awkwardness on the current situation would probably just show itself if she stayed any longer, and wanting to get out of his office as soon as she could. "You said I could fill out some gun reapplication form?"

_Aha! Knew she'd remember_, Booth thought smugly. "Here you go," he handed the form he held in his hand. "Send it back by courier, no hurry," he added, just because he wanted to make sure that Brennan and Amy didn't cross paths again anytime soon. He had no idea how long Amy was planning on hounding him for whatever she wanted, and how long it would take him to get her out of the Hoover.

Brennan tried not to let the hurt she felt at his words show. _Goddammit, Brennan, since when did you become such a…_Girl_ about things!_ She chided herself, repeating Rosalie's words to Wyatt when he had complained about her using up all the hot water in the morning.

Instead, she snatched the form from his hands and gave Amy a smile. "Nice to meet you," she forced out before walking out of Booth's office, scowling the whole way.

BBBBBBB

Hours later, as evening approached and the number of workers at the Jeffersonian dwindled down, Brennan found herself still irrationally upset over Amy Morton's strange familiarity with Booth.

She sighed as she stood over a set of human remains, rolling her neck a few times in an attempt to get rid of the kink that had formed from examining the remains for so long.

_This is ridiculous_, she chided herself. Even if Booth and Amy had been together sexually before…It was none of her business. It wasn't as if he was a shy, blushing virgin when she'd met him. He was a strong, sexually experienced man. She herself had had more than a few handfuls of sexual partners before Booth.

But even as she repeated self-assurances to herself, she still couldn't help feeling the slight burn of jealousy coursing through her veins.

_See, normally, I'd have Angela to talk to about things like these_, she pouted. She'd been able to talk to Rosalie a few times - in fact, she'd made it a point to inform not just Rosalie, but her sons as well, that she was in a new, tentative, clandestine relationship with her FBI partner. Of course, she sometimes shared a little more with Rose but her daughter was only newly thirteen. There wasn't much personal details that she could share, not like she could with Angela. And while Rose had been such a big help encouraging her to go on her trip to Jamaica with Booth - which had been very enjoyable, she had to admit - she didn't think ranting to her baby girl about how she wanted to strangle the sexy red-headed lawyer was a good thing.

_Something about being a good role model or something or the other_, she thought dismissively, forcing herself to focus on the specimen in front of her once more, barely paying attention to her co-workers around her, racing beetles.

"You sure you don't wanna come?" Angela's voice startled her, but not enough to raise her head from the bones she was looking at - her best friend was very adept at reading people. Especially her. She'd once said that Brennan's eyes were very telling, even if the rest of her was guarded. She didn't need Angela to see the turmoil she was feeling inside, particularly when said turmoil pertained to a man, of all things. "Troy can call a friend."

_Since when had I become a woman weakened by her emotions?_ Brennan questioned with an internal sigh.

Sometimes being with Booth was such a wonderful thing - she felt so refreshed with him, like she wasn't just exploring a purely sexual, physical relationship, but like she was exploring something deeper, something much more meaningful. And even when they didn't say it out loud, sometimes they'd look at each other…And their eyes would say it all, no matter how ludicrous that might seem. She was adept in the art of literature - she understood the poetry of it all, and it was beautiful.

But sometimes…Sometimes it was just difficult to be so invested emotionally.

Shaking herself out of her disturbing thoughts, she answered Angela with her gaze still firmly on the remains in front of her. "I've been waiting months for these," she said, proud that her voice was as professional as she always allowed with Angela. "It's a partial skeleton from Southern France. It's…"

"You know," Angela interrupted her, knowing that Brennan could go on and on for hours in regards of her one passion in life. "The whole point of the week is the weekend. This is not the cabaret, my friend. Life is the cabaret. Come to the cabaret."

At the blank look Brennan briefly shot her, Angela sighed. "It's like describing the moon to a mole," she said in defeat, walking away from Brennan with a shake of her head, determined to have fun for the both of them that night. _You know, what with her never-ending quest for justice, her consuming work ethic and her devotion to her kids…She might end up the fifty year old spinster if I don't step in_, Angela mused to herself, promising to look for prospective, hunky men for Brennan the next day once she was done with Troy.

She sashayed her way to the stairs leading down the platform, rolling her eyes a little as she heard Hodgins and Zack argue about beetle groins - _ugh, gross_ - passing Booth on the steps.

Booth flashed his beautiful partner's equally gorgeous best friend a grin as he saw her, all dressed up for her weekend. _She probably has a date_, he thought knowingly. Angela was the most normal squint he'd ever known. "Mm, Angela…Looking good," he said with obvious male beamed widely at him, a teasing predatory glint in her eyes. "And don't I know it," she retorted playfully. _Why the hell doesn't Brennan wake up and smell the salty goodness?_ Angela sighed exasperatedly. _What do I have to do - find a way to strip them both down and shove them together to get them to do the horizontal mambo?_

Booth whistled, before turning to face the front. Noticing the beetle race, he jibed, "Okay. Our tax dollars hard at work."

"Yeah, what, it's break time at the FBI book burning?" Hodgins shot back. When Zack's beetle won again, his hopeful expression fell. "No!"

Booth rolled his eyes, he decided to was probably safer to walk away from the crazy scientists and just look for his crazy scientist. "Hey, Bones," he greeted her, a soft smile flickering on his lips as he looked at her. "What are you doing this weekend?"

Assuming that he was going to ask her to spend the weekend with him, she said in a clipped tone, "I have plans."

"Come on, I'm serious," he coaxed, a little taken aback by her less than friendly demeanor as she snapped off her latex gloves and walked away from him, down the platform.

He jogged a little to catch up with her fast stride, walking with her to her office. "Between your girlfriend the corporate lawyer and the defense lawyer on the side, your weekend must be completely booked," she said in an uncharacteristic show of cattiness. "What is your thing with lawyers?"

He did a double take at her. "_What!_ Okay, what?" he shook his head. "Bones…You know Tessa and I are over," he said, his voice lowered to a tone only she could hear in fear of prying ears. "And Amy and I…We were never together, okay? It's not like that."

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me if you were," she continued on, either blissfully unaware of how uncomfortable he was getting or ignoring it completely. "She's a very sexually appealing, woman, Booth."

"Uh, look," Booth said, changing the topic because that pretty much seemed like the safest way to go. "Seven years ago, a seventeen year old girl, April Wright, was found beaten to death in a federal park. Okay? Amy is just trying to stop the guy who did it from being executed."

"So I guess we're not pursuing your lawyer obsession."

"No," he replied curtly. "Amy doesn't think he did it."

"And what does this have to do with you?" Brennan asked as they approached her office door.

"Oh, well, you know…Amy's client is deep six and she doesn't turn over every stone…" he trailed off, shrugging.

"And you're one of her stones?" she asked, her question needing no answer. They both entered her office and Brennan made a beeline for her desk, sitting in her chair. "Do you think he did it?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

Brennan's eyebrows drew together. "What's her reasoning?"

"There was a, uh, pubic hair that was uncounted for," he admitted. And even though he had absolutely no doubt in his heart or his gut that Howard Epps was guilty…There was a tiny tug at his morals, in his mind, that told him that any other officer would've had that pubic hair checked out. And that he should do the same.

Brennan cocked an eyebrow at him, still unrelenting. "Pubic hair? Sounds like a job for the FBI crime lab," she informed him, restraining herself from scoffing at what little he was presenting her with.

"It's a weekend deal - off the books," he shrugged, knowing that there was more to it. If his boss found out he was doing this…He'd be in deep trouble, and all because of Amy Morton yet again. _God, I hate that woman_, he seethed to himself, despite what he was asking of Bones, and why he was asking in the first place. "But if you have plans…" he trailed off, turning around to leave. He didn't want to force her into doing this, not when he himself didn't want to do this in the first place.

Brennan squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, exhaling loudly, before snapping them open and calling him back. "Wait," she said, and with that one word he halted his movements. "This is a personal favor you're asking?"

"Not for me," he spun back around to face her, unleashing the full power of his puppy dog eyes he knew were irresistible. "For Amy."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Well, _your_ personal favor would be for _Amy_," she didn't resist the childish urge to mock the lawyer's name as she spoke it, scowling. "But mine would be for you. Strictly speaking."

Realizing he should probably just go with the flow since she was in such a bad mood, he pleaded softly with her, "Please do me a favor?" Brennan stared at him blankly, still unsure. She wondered why it was so important to him to do this favor for Amy Morton. "Please?" he pleaded once more, holding out the folder in his hand for her to take.

Brennan sighed in defeat and snatched the folder out of his hand, ignoring the thankful smile he sent her way. "I beg you for a whole day about a gun, and I get nothing, but Amy Morton walks in with her tiny skirt and flirty smile and suddenly you're falling all over your feet trying to please her," she muttered loud enough for him to hear. She flipped the folder cover open and started to look through it. "Maybe I should wear a teeny tiny skirt, Booth. Helps to focus your attention."

Booth scowled at her. "Okay, it's not like that. Okay? I already told you - nothing went on between me and Amy before and nothing will ever happen between me and Amy ever," he insisted.

"Say whatever you want, Booth, but I don't greet my past colleagues the way Amy greeted you. And I certainly don't do personal favors for them," she replied in a nonchalant tone of voice. Not even looking up at him, or giving him a chance to reply, she switched topics. "Any remains withheld from burial?"

He kept up with her change of subject easily - she was, if anything, a quick-minded woman. He'd learned quite some time ago that her brain worked at a pace far superior than the average human. It was best just to go with the flow with her. Besides, he had no desire to continue their apparent bickering match over Amy and whether or not Booth had ever slept with her.

"Not after the last appeal," he replied.

"I need x-rays from the ME and the coroner - originals. The copies are useless. Bone scrapings, lab results, tox screens…" she listed off.

Booth nodded, having already anticipated this if she'd agreed to work the case with him. "All the evidence will be here within the hour," he promised.

"I'll ask the others but I won't order them," she warned. "They might have plans."

He stared at her as if she was crazy. "It's Friday night, and they're racing beetles," he said in a tone of voice that suggested this explained everything.

Ignoring this, she asked, "How much time do we have?"

Booth lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. "Howard Epps will be executed in thirty hours and twenty-three minutes," he informed her, voice somber.

BBBBBBB

Brennan pressed the disconnect button on her phone, ending the call she'd just made to Booth to inform him of her and Amy's trip to the judge's house to get an exhumation order. She tucked her phone back into her purse, looking out of the passenger's side window of Amy's car.

Amy gave the anthropologist a few sideways glance, eyeing her in interest.

She considered herself to be a pretty good judge of character. She supposed, being a defense attorney, sometimes you had to be - you had to ensure, after all, that the client you chose to represent was really innocent. Like Howard Epps.

She was pretty sure, just by being in the same room as Booth and Brennan in his office that first time, that the duo were seeing each other. Out of respect of their privacy, she hadn't brought it up to Booth nor had she insinuated to anyone else. After all, if their relationship was public knowledge…She'd have known about it before stepping into the Hoover to ask Booth for this favor. And she wasn't so sure of the FBI's stance on partners in a romantic relationship, but she was sure it was frowned upon.

But sitting there, in her car, all alone with the anthropologist, Amy's curiosity had tripled in the space of twenty minutes and she couldn't help the words tumbling out of her mouth if she tried. "So, you seeing each other?"

Brennan whipped her head around to look at Amy, blinking at her a few times. "Who?" she asked, confused and more than slightly shocked that the lawyer was engaging in small talk with her.

"You and Booth," Amy clarified with a small smirk.

"No," Brennan protested immediately, hoping that Amy hadn't picked up on the nervous undertone in her laugh. "No. We're…We're working together."

Amy ignored that. "'Cause I'm picking up a bit of a sex vibe," she told Brennan, her tone amused.

"No, that's tension," Brennan corrected, hoping Amy would believe that. Noticing the disbelieving look on Amy's face and the all-knowing smirk playing the red-head's lips, she blurted out, panicked, "He has a girlfriend."

Amy didn't miss a beat as she replied, "Tall, blonde, beautiful." It wasn't a question, just a statement - after all, the last time she'd seen Booth, while he had been single, he'd also had a blonde woman just like that hanging around his office a few times. And while they hadn't looked like they were on the most pleasant terms, it was obvious that they'd had something together before.

_Not exactly_, Brennan bit her lower lip in contemplation. _Were all his previous girlfriends like that?_ It couldn't have been Tessa Amy was talking about - Booth and Tessa hadn't even met until after Booth and Brennan's first encounter together. And Booth mentioned that the last time he had seen Amy was a few years ago. _So, what, this was his type? I'm nowhere near that. I'm tall, and I have quite a symmetrically pleasing bone structure, but that's it_.

Deciding to just go with what Amy had said, she used Tessa as the mold of what Booth's supposed girlfriend was like. "Lawyer," she added, just to make it seem all the more authentic.

"Figures," Amy scoffed, shaking her head as she focused on the road ahead of her. "Should've jumped him when I had the chance," she added wistfully.

An unpleasant churning in her stomach, something that occurred so suddenly and so strongly that it unnerved her, caused her to squirm in her seat. Keeping her face and tone neutral, Brennan cocked an eyebrow at Amy. "You're really interested in Booth?"

Even though her tone was shocked, she wasn't really. Booth wasn't just appealing physically. He was a very desirable male in every way - he had morals that were hard to find in not just a man, but in most people in this day and age. He had a strong sense of justice, of what was right and wrong, of loyalty and of monogamy.

While Brennan understood that monogamy in human beings was very…Unlikely, she also understood that Booth wasn't that sort of a man.

Add that up to every last bit of his engaging personality and his strength - physically and metaphorically speaking…He was a very desirable, very attractive man, inside and out.

She understood Amy's attraction to him, even if it made her oddly nauseous to think of Booth anywhere near the woman.

"You aren't?" Amy shot back, her tone equally incredulous.

"No," she lied.

"Well, then, why are you helping him?"

Brennan shrugged. "Because he asked me," she said, as though that was enough. To her, it was. Booth was her partner, and if he needed something…She would try her hardest to help him out. It was just what partners did for each other. At Amy's disbelief, she added, "He said please."

Amy laughed incredulously. "Come on," she tried to coax the truth out of the straight laced scientist. "You think he's hot." "No, not at all," Brennan replied instantly. Wanting to change the subject - because Amy clearly wasn't buying her lies, and thinking of how hot Booth was, was getting _her_ hot and that wasn't a good thing when she was sitting in a defense attorney's car on the way to a judge's house in the middle of an investigation where they probably wouldn't get some alone time to get her _off_ - she said, "This is a very interesting case."

"Booth did say you had some kind of mania for the truth," Amy said, cocking her head to the side in acknowledgement of Brennan's words.

"Mania?" Brennan questioned, eyebrows furrowing together at Amy's words. "As in 'maniac'?"

"I'm not sure he meant it as a bad thing," Amy rushed to assure Brennan, only just realizing that she'd probably said the wrong thing. Noticing the slight glare the anthropologist sent her way, and trying her best to ignore the small thrill of fear sliding down her spine at the steely look in her blue eyes, Amy sighed. "Which, obviously, is how you are taking it."

_Oh, Booth, we are going to have a long, long talk_, Brennan chuckled mirthlessly in her mind. _First about how you and Amy almost jumped into bed together - since you lied and said there was never 'a thing' to begin with - and then about how I'm such a maniac_.

BBBBBBB

After another trip to the judge's house, following the exhumation of April Wright's body to request Judge Cohen to stop the execution, Booth drove Brennan and Amy back in his SUV. The mood in the car was somber, since Judge Cohen had denied their request to put a stop to Howard Epps' execution.

As they sat in silence, Brennan decided to speak up, upset over more than just Epps' final hours. "Why am I sitting in the backseat?" she demanded.

Booth started, meeting her gaze in his rearview mirror. "What…? Bones, I thought you didn't mind sitting in the backseat," he said.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Why the hell would you think that?" she asked, aware that was sulking and sounded completely juvenile. "I always sit in the passenger's seat."

Amy turned her head to look at Brennan. "Do you want me to…" she trailed off, gesturing between her and Brennan to indicate switching places.

"No," Brennan shook her head. "No. Just…The next time you want to drag me out to a crime scene, Booth, we're taking my car and I'm driving. I'll be bringing Zack with me and he'll sit in the passenger seat, and you can sit in the backseat."

Booth scowled at Brennan through the mirror. "Well, I didn't think you'd make such a big deal out of this, Bones," he snarked. "And we are not taking your teeny tiny sports car to a crime scene, okay?"

"Fine, I'll just drive your car," she replied nonchalantly.

He snorted derisively. "Yeah, fat chance of that happening," he said sarcastically.

"I don't know what that means."

"It means, Bones," he sighed exasperatedly. "That I'm not letting you drive my car."

"You don't have to let me do anything, Booth," she scoffed. "I have ways of getting your keys."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do," she said, her cerulean eyes meeting his warm brown ones in the mirror. And even though her lips were still scowling and her face was impassive, her eyes had that wicked gleam that told him exactly what she was referring to, kept private from the other occupant of his SUV. "I'm sneaky."

Booth swallowed hard, forcing his gaze away from hers to focus on the road ahead. If he kept looking into those baby blues, he was either going to get into a very embarrassing position which Amy, sitting right next to him, would catch on to and inevitably blow their secret, or he was going to crash the SUV. "You're not sneaky," he denied, he himself not believing his words.

"I'm sneaky," she insisted.

They fell silent after that, the tense atmosphere that had been present before Booth and Brennan had started bickering and - strangely enough - eased the stifling sorrow that had permeated the air around them creeping right back in.

Amy sighed heavily. "I'll go out to the prison and tell Epps," she said quietly, subtly letting Booth know where to drop her off.

"I'll take another look at the skull, see if we didn't miss anything," she added, wanting to help Amy even if she didn't particularly like the woman. Unable to help herself, she jabbed, "You know, in my mania for the truth and everything."

In the front of the car, Amy shot Booth an apologetic grimace.

"Bones," Booth said softly, her tone both pleading with her to drop it and apologizing for what he'd said to Amy about her all at the same time.

Brennan rolled her eyes but complied, continuing in her professional tone, "The particulates in the skull still haven't been analyzed yet."

"This is so barbaric!" Amy burst out, shaking her head as she stared sadly out her window, thinking of what Howard Epps would be going through in just a few short hours. "When are they going to put a stop to the damn death penalty!"

Brennan shrugged. _Perhaps Carlyle was right, she thought to herself. Amy does seem like an idealist_. "I believe in the death penalty," she revealed nonchalantly.

"What!" Amy asked, shocked, sounding fairly disgusted by her statement.

Brennan turned her head to look at Amy, who had already fixed her gaze on Brennan. "There are certain people that shouldn't be in this world," she stated, firmly believing this. "The people who hacked hundreds of children to death in Rwanda…Beheaded them at their desks in school…" she said, giving an example just at the tip of her tongue. "The people who did _that_, they should be executed."

Amy's gaze softened slightly at her words. _Okay, even I have to admit…That was gruesome and horrific_, she conceded. "So why do you care about Epps?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Because the facts have to add up," she replied firmly. She turned to Booth, "Drop me at the lab, please."

BBBBBBB

Less than four hours to go before the execution of Howard Epps took place, Booth and Brennan had a confession from David Ross that he'd had sex with April Wright the night of the murder, the location of the marsh where April Wright was murdered and Deputy Director Cullen's reluctant approval to use a team of agents and GPR equipments to locate the murder weapon that might still be in the marsh after seven years.

"There are four areas that have spartina alterniflora," Brennan murmured out loud as she stared at her computer screen, a video link to the Jeffersonian giving her Angela's findings of areas in the marsh that matched what was found on the murder weapon used to kill April Wright.

"Muddy area, knee high grass," Hodgins piped in helpfully. "Okay, go back one screen," he instructed, catching something the others didn't.

"It's just off that service road," Booth noted, having no problem deciphering the aerial map.

Without a word, Brennan grabbed her forensics kit and walked in the direction of said murder location.

She walked past a few of the agents milling about, using metal detectors to look for the tire iron that was used to beat April Wright to death.

"We've got the tire iron!" one of the agents called out as Booth and Brennan reached the spot Hodgins had pointed out to them.

Booth on the other hand, had seen something in the ground. "Over here," he called out. "There's something else here. Here, I got something…More than a tire iron…Is that what I think it is?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at the muddy ground.

"I need a shove…" Brennan started to yell, but Booth cut her off.

"Bones," he interrupted her. When she was quiet, he turned to the agents. "I need a shovel!" he called out. "She's digging here!"

"Right away, sir!"

An agent stepped forward, handing a shovel to Brennan. "Ma'am," he said respectfully. Brennan, on sheer exhaustion alone, would've snapped that she wasn't old enough to be considered a 'ma'am', but she let it go in a way that was completely uncharacteristic for her. "Agent Booth," the same agent held out another shovel to Booth.

Booth shook his head, waving the agent off. "Uh, no, thanks," he muttered, hopefully too quietly for Brennan to hear.

Of course, that wasn't really a fool proof plan, since she could see him just standing there, watching her as she dug through the dirt, toeing a little of the mud with his shoe. "Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to help?"

"Well, I would…But this is a twelve hundred dollar suit," he shrugged, his hands stuffed into his front pants pockets, hoping the little charm smile and pleading eyes would work for him.

Apparently, though, a tired Brennan was a cranky Brennan. She stopped digging, sticking her shovel in the mud and resting one arm on the handle, as she glared at him. "Are you kidding me? I haven't slept in forty-eight hours, and you're worried about your suit!" she shook her head incredulously. "Get over here!"

Booth frowned, annoyed that he had to dig as well, but shucked off his jacket nonetheless. It was his fault Brennan was even on this case, in the first place. "Can I get a shovel?" he yelled out, causing Brennan to get back to her work, satisfied that he was going to help out now. "Thanks," he muttered as the same agent as before came back, offering him a shovel and a knowing smile.

"Dig gently, small layers at a time," she instructed. "What would you usually be doing?"

"What?"

"If it were a normal weekend," she elaborated.

"You want to discuss this now?" Booth shook his head. "You have the oddest timing for personal conversation, Bones."

She shrugged, not looking up to meet his eyes. "Well, I was just wondering. Compared to you with your multiple sex partners…"

He stopped shoveling for a moment to glare at her. "Okay, you know what, you need to get over the whole Amy thing," he snapped. "Yes, we flirted when we first met, but that was it. Flirt, full stop. Okay? It's not a crime to flirt when you're single. I didn't even know you existed then, so it doesn't count, okay? What, you're telling me _you've_ never worked with someone and flirted with them before?"

Brennan shot him a look, and he backtracked before she could blurt out their relationship right there in the marsh. "And, just so you know, I have never ever cheated on any woman that I have ever been with," he insisted.

She stopped digging, too, at these words, straightening up to look at him.

The vulnerability in her beautiful ocean blue eyes made him halt. He realized that this might be what had been fueling her foul temper ever since Amy had reappeared in his life.

_Silly Bones_, he thought affectionately. Why would he even look at another woman when he had her? "Never," he repeated again, his voice soft, as he maintained eye contact, hoping to convey to her with just his eyes how much she meant to him and how he would never screw that up.

And even though she was relieved - even if she'd known Booth was a respectable sort of man and he would never hurt her like that, she was a woman who was experiencing an intense sort of relationship for the first time in her life…She was prone to bouts of insecurities - Brennan merely ducked her head and continued digging. "I just asked what you'd normally be doing," she said, proud at how steady her voice was.

Booth hid smile and continued digging as well. "I'd be at a movie," he replied, silently reminding her of their 'movie nights', something he intended to become a tradition since she had so much to learn when it came to pop culture and he found himself lucky enough to be the one to be able to teach her. "Dancing, maybe, with somebody that I care about…You?"

"I…" she trailed off, his question going unanswered as her shovel gently hit something much more concrete than mud. _Ah, well, he knows what I like to do on weekends. Mostly_. She reached down, uncovering a muddied skull from the ground. Picking it up with her gloved hands, she held it up for Booth to see.

Booth stared at it for a long moment. _Wait a second…It had felt like _my_ shovel was hitting something_, he thought with trepidation. Going back to digging - _gently, in small layers_ - he found himself staring at the sight of another flash of white.

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" he wondered out loud, frustration creeping into his voice.

BBBBBBB

The execution had been stayed, but it wasn't because Howard Epps was innocent. It was because he was guilty of more than just the murder of April Wright, but the murder of at least two other girls.

After dropping by the prison to chat with a very much alive, and less than remorseful, Epps, Booth and Brennan had gone to Wong Foo's to try and rid themselves of just a little bit of the solemnity that had pervaded them.

"What's the matter with you two?" Sid asked, raising his eyebrow as he passed the crime fighting duo sitting at the bar.

"Bad day at work," Booth replied, his voice coarse with the heavy weight of everything that had passed in the past day.

Sid shook his head. "Well, that's what you get for working on weekends," he chided. "You ever hear about, uh, taking some time off? Having a little fun?"

"Why? What do you do?" Brennan asked, a little curious as what the strange, slightly mysterious restaurant owner did on his weekends.

"I'd be breaking about six different laws if I just told you how I maneuvered on my Saturday nights," he joked, taking pride when it elicited a small smile from the pretty scientist. "But I will bring you some food."

"I'm not hungry," Brennan called out, protesting even as Sid left them to head to the kitchen, ignoring her.

Booth sighed, giving her a small smile. "No use arguing with Sid, Bones," he said half-heartedly.

Brennan settled down in her seat, keeping quiet for a few moments. "Are you in trouble with your boss?" she asked Booth suddenly, turning to look at her.

He winced, but didn't answer her question. "You know, I'm sorry for wrecking your weekend for nothing."

She shrugged. Sure, she had planned to spend some time with her children - with her new relationship with Booth, both professionally where he dragged her out to solve federal cases left and right, and personally where they tried to cram as much alone time as possible whenever they could, she couldn't help but feel like she was neglecting Wyatt, Rosalie, Tri and Zan.

But the case had been important, too. She couldn't begrudge him just wanting to make sure everything was right with the case. After all, she knew his conscience. She knew that taking lives didn't just slide off of his conscience like it meant nothing. It haunted him when he had to take lives as a sniper - sniping those who were dangerous and had done plenty of wrong - and it would haunt him if he didn't check every angle possible before the man he'd arrested was executed.

"No, not for nothing," she assured Booth.

"Ah, you know what I mean," he shook his head. "You know, all that running around…It didn't change anything. Epps was guilty." He sighed, dropping his gaze to the bar counter. "He was always guilty," his voice was heavy as he spoke again. If it weren't for all that poking around…Epps would be dead by now. One less evil in the world. But he'd poked and prodded, and he'd made Brennan poke and prod, and they'd managed to _save_ the damn bastard. _How do you live with that?_

"There was doubt," she reminded him. "We had an obligation to respect that doubt…We all share in the death of every human being."

"Very poetic," he said with a hint of surprise.

"No, very literal," she argued. "We all share DNA. When I look at a bone, it's not some artifact that I can separate from myself. It's a part of a person who got there the same way I did. It should never be easy to take someone's life. I don't care who it is."

She lifted her head to look at Booth, seeing him just staring at her, his elbow propped on the counter and her head tilted to the side in her direction, resting on his fisted hand. "What?" she furrowed her brows together. When he continued to just stare at her, she fidgeted slightly. "What?" she repeated.

He smiled, reveling a little at the small blush that appeared on her ivory cheeks. "You know, you've been practicing your Nobel prize speech just a little too much," he teased, despite the fact that her little speech had made him feel just a tad better.

She scowled at him, playfully smacking at his shoulder.

"Here you go," a voice interrupted them.

They both looked up to see a waitress approaching them. Sid was right next to her, both of them carrying bowls of food which they set down in front of Booth and Brennan.

"Scallops and Szechuan garlic sauce, duck fried rice, apple pie, hot cup of Joe," Sid listed off the foods and drink he'd brought for the partners. "To simple pleasures, my friends," he smiled, holding up his glass. "To simple pleasures."

Brennan and Booth smiled at him gratefully, both starting to dig into their food. Once Sid was gone, Booth turned to Brennan, watching her gracefully pick a piece of duck with her chopsticks and place it into her mouth, chewing delicately.

"Bones?" he asked after a moment.

"Hmm?"

He placed his chopsticks down and grabbed his freshly brewed cup of coffee. "Can I ask you something?" She merely looked at him, her expression curious. He took this as a permission and went on. "It's just…" He sighed, wondering how to phrase this tactfully enough that he wouldn't receive an ass kicking later.

Brennan, however, tilted her head to the side. She might not know how to read people as well as Booth, but she knew how to read Booth. It was a slow learning process, but even the smallest progress was still progress. She also knew that her behavior this past day had been erratic and confusing.

"You want to know why I've been acting oddly ever since yesterday," she concluded, gazing at him.

Booth snorted slightly. "No, I know why you were acting so 'oddly'," he mimicked her. At her mildly offended expression, he hastily added, "Listen, I'd be lying if I were to say that I wouldn't be jealous if you were being chummy with some other man…Not that I was being chummy with Amy, mind you."

She had no idea what that meant, but he didn't seem like he was finished making whatever point he was trying to make, so she stayed quiet and just listened.

"I'm just…Look, the jealousy doesn't bother me."

She was surprised at that. "It doesn't?" she asked, startled. She knew that jealousy wasn't a very attractive trait. She had never actually been one to be prone to jealousy, not when it came to personal relationships. Angela would say that she wasn't invested her in her past relationships enough to feel jealousy when the situations arose. Brennan would say that she'd always been confident enough in her adult life to be secure instead of needy.

"Does it bother you?" Booth questioned gently, sensing more to her shock than just that.

Brennan bit her lower lip, setting her chopsticks down as well, and nodded. "Yes, it does," she answered truthfully. "Booth…" she sighed. "I'm not a jealous person. I don't have catty moments. I don't get insecure about the men in my life. Either we're together or we're not. Just black and white…But with you…It's different. And I don't know what to make of it, or how to feel about it."

He stared at her for a long moment, a small smile on the edges of his lips. "Feel happy about it," he suggested, reaching out to take her hand that was on the counter. "Different isn't bad, especially when it's like _this_," he gestured between the two of them. "Right?"

Brennan nodded her head slowly. "Yes, I suppose it's not a bad thing entirely," she agreed. He chuckled, squeezing her hand once and letting go. Brennan frowned as his earlier words came back to her. "Wait…If it isn't the jealousy that bothers you, what does?" she asked, a little furrow between her eyebrows as she looked at him as though her eyes could somehow see through his skull and give her all the answers.

He sighed, looking down. "Look, I meant it when I said - I'm not a cheater," he said, reminding her of what he'd said back at the marsh. "I didn't do Amy this favor because she wore a tiny skirt. I would never hurt you, Temperance."

The use of her given name startled her, and she met his gaze, a little unnerved and a little thrilled all at the same time. He seemed to understand, leaning in closer to her and grasping her chin gently in his hand, angling her face to his. "I just…I need you to trust me," he shrugged. "I trust you. So I need you to trust me. Okay?"

She gazed into his warm eyes, seeing the truth in them, seeing the spark of emotion she wasn't yet ready to come to terms with. "Okay," she agreed softly.

He nodded, accepting her words. Without thinking, he reached for her hand once more, pressing a kiss to the back of her fingers.

They resumed their dinner, a comfortable silence enveloping them.

And when they were done - with Sid refusing either Booth's or Brennan's money as usual - they walked out of Wong Foo's in that same comfortable silence, his hand on her back.

He drove them to his place, some where they'd both agreed to going to next without even speaking, without the two of them saying anything to one another, just soft smiles exchanged in the dim streetlights shining in through the windows of the SUV.

They made their way up from his apartment building's parking lot, all the way to his apartment in silence.

And when the front door was locked and they were in his bedroom, they undressed just as silently, their eyes locked as they each disrobed, the same soft smiles on their faces.

When they came together, lips meeting, limbs tangling, hands exploring, bodies tumbling onto the bed…It was different, because even though they never said it out loud, something had changed. Something that neither really understood fully, but neither would deny, either. At least to themselves.

As they laid together in the afterglow, just a thin sheet draped over their naked bodies, Brennan's head resting against Booth's chest as he was half propped up with his pillow in between his back and the bed's headboard, Brennan contemplated what he'd asked of her.

_To trust him_, she mused. Did she trust him? With her life? Explicitly. With her heart? It was a harder thing to do. A more difficult thing to do, almost a sacrifice. She was terrified of doing just that, and it would take her a while to get there. But she knew she trusted Booth enough to let her into her life deeper than she had already let him in. _Let's face it - if there's anyone on this planet whom I could trust with my 'secret', it would be Booth_.

She turned her head, pressing a kiss to his bare chest. "Booth?" she murmured, looking up at him.

"Hmm?" he gazed down at her, meeting her eyes and smiling at her.

She bit her lip. "I trust you," she said, answering his earlier request as though they hadn't just had dinner and sex afterwards since then. "I do trust you…And I'm thinking…"

He tilted his head to the side. "What?" he prompted.

"I'm thinking that I'm ready," she said. At his still baffled expression, she chuckled and pulled herself up his body so that she was snuggled into him, their faces right next to each other's. "My secret, Booth," she clarified, watching his expression clear to give way to excitement and curiosity. "I think I'm ready to tell you about my secret."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she laughed at the 'little boy on Christmas' look he was sporting. "Really…But I'm pretty nervous about it, so can you give me a little time to gather my courage?"

He smiled, reaching out the arm that wasn't wrapped around her bare torso, his hand cupping her cheek and his thumb brushing against her silky soft skin. "Sure, Bones," he murmured, seeing the relief in her eyes. "But you've gotta know…I'm your partner. I stand by you no matter what. You don't have to be nervous."

She smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks, Booth," she whispered, snuggling deeper into his side and resting her head in the crook of his neck. She stayed that way for a little while before pressing a kiss to his throat. "I've got to head home," she told him apologetically.

"Wait," he said, grabbing onto her wrist as she pulled away. "Can't you stay?" he frowned.

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, Booth." Brennan leaned in to brush a kiss against his lips, stealing one, then two, three, before she could pull herself away. She pushed the sheet aside, bending to grab her clothes and put them back on. "Maybe…" she trailed off shyly. "Maybe after I tell you my secret, we could spend more nights together?" she suggested, knowing that there was no way he could really promise her this when he had no idea what her secret was. Brennan was sure that he would run as far away from her as possible once he found out what her secret was.

"Sure, Bones," he said anyway, nodding. Booth simply wanted to know another aspect of Temperance Brennan's mysterious, secretive life. "I'd like that."

She smiled, accepting his words for the moment, and shook out her tousled curls. She grabbed her jacket and leaned over the bed to give Booth another kiss. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Booth," she promised, rubbing her fingers gently on his jaw, smiling.

Pulling away, she gave him one more wave before she headed out of his bedroom to get home to her children.

_Soon, Booth_, she promised. _I want you to know soon_.

She had no idea of knowing that, back in his bed, Booth was thinking the very same thing about her and Parker.

* * *

Well! Did you like it!

This is definitely shorter than the past few episode/chapters, and I originally intended for it to be Brennan being completely oblivious to her own jealousy, but they already did that on the show and Booth and Brennan are in a committed relationship in this AU version. Besides, I think with her having four kids and wanting a stable sort of environment for them if Booth would ever clash with her home life, she'd want the reassurance that he was in it for real. After all, she had already been burned by Peter and God knows what other useless men before that.

And I think we're getting closer, too. Just one more episode to go before the Christmas one, so Booth and Brennan would definitely be getting to know each other's secrets in the next one. Ugh. Michael Stires. I'm gonna love bashing him…

Juliet.


	8. The Girl in the Fridge

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

* * *

_November 29, 2005._

It had been an entire week since Brennan had told Booth she was ready enough to let him in on her 'secret'. And, yet, here she was, with her secret held tight.

"Mom, I think you should invite him over," Rosalie advised her.

"You think?" Brennan asked as she flipped another pancake from the pan on top of the stack of pancakes she'd piled on a plate next to the pan.

Rosalie nodded, tipping her glass and finishing off the last of her juice before reaching out to grab the carton sitting on the kitchen island a few inches from where she sat on her stool. "Most definitely," she said firmly. "I mean, just get the shock of it over with."

Wyatt, strolling into the kitchen, dressed like he often did these days (jeans riding low on his hips, a graphic long sleeved shirt, a pair of Chucks and earphones draped over his shoulders, ready to be placed in his ears the moment he stepped out of the house), quirked an eyebrow at the two women of the house. "Whatcha talking about?" he asked, followed by, "Aw, man! Rose! You drank the last of the OJ! Dammit!"

Rosalie ignored her brother, the only acknowledgement was a smirk and her glass raised in his direction in a mock toast before she lifted the glass to her lips, sipping the OJ contentedly.

"Wyatt!" Brennan hissed, throwing a glance in the direction of the living room. "Don't curse with your little brothers around!" She knew it was ridiculous to ask him not to curse at all - he was already a teenager, and they tended to do so every now and again. She liked to think that she'd taught both him and Rose well enough that they wouldn't be cursing away like expletives were normal vocabulary words, but every once in a while was fine by her. They were growing up, after all.

Wyatt held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, mom," he sighed, going to the fridge to pull out a bottle of Snapple - the only sugared drink Brennan allowed in the house since she, as well as the twins, shared an almost obsession with the drink.

Rosalie's eyes narrowed, her nose flaring, when she noticed the drink in her brother's hand. "Hey!" she protested. "That was the last one! We wrestled for it and _I_ won!"

Wyatt's response to that was a mirror of her own just moments ago - a smirk, a mock toast and tilting the bottle back to down half of it in three seconds flat.

Brennan rolled her eyes, flipping the last of the pancakes and shutting off the stove. "Wyatt, put these on the table, would you?" she requested, nodding to the plate of pancakes. "Rosie, go wrangle your brothers in here."

"Yes, ma'am," the twins echoed, Rosalie hopping off her stool and taking her beloved glass of OJ into the living room with her.

"Come on, guys, breakfast is ready!" Brennan heard her call out to Zan and Demetri, who, predictably, began protesting that they wanted only _five more minutes_ of TV time. Brennan wasn't worried - Rosalie was all about tough love.

As Wyatt placed the pancakes and the plate of hotdogs and hash browns she'd made earlier on the kitchen table, Brennan pulled out a carton of milk for Zan and Tri. "So what were you and Rose talking about earlier?" Wyatt asked curiously.

Brennan shrugged. "Booth," she replied simply.

"Ah."

Brennan shot her oldest son a look. "Are you comfortable with me inviting Booth over?" she asked him, chewing on her lower lip nervously. "Because if you're not…?"

Wyatt gave her that Brennan 'crooked smirk' that he'd inherited from her, shaking his head. "Aw, come on, mom," he waved her concerns aside. "All of us are more than fine with it. You're stalling."

"I am most certainly not!" she protested, aghast. Wyatt merely raised an eyebrow at her, a knowing look on his face. "Alright, maybe a little," she admitted. "It's just…Four kids. Not one, but four. One, he could maybe understand. But four! Wyatt, I'm not even thirty yet."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "We know how old you are, mother," he said in this exasperated sort of tone he'd started using more and more lately. "But you're prolonging the inevitable. Just get the guy over here. If he can handle it, great. If he can't, sucks."

He reached over, grabbing a cherry from the small bowl of fruits she'd placed on the table earlier, popping it into his mouth. "Whether you like it or not, mom, we're a part of your life," he pointed out smartly. "He's going to have to find out."

She nodded. Rationally, she could understand that. If this was in the reverse, if Booth had a secret this big…She'd want to know, too.

Rosalie managed to wrangle not only Zan and Tri into the kitchen, but the three dogs (Sammy, Wyatt's golden retriever, Baby, Rose's own Japanese Spitz, and Shark Bait, Zan and Tri's shared Bichon Frise) as well. Rosalie was holding Baby while Sammy dashed into the kitchen, going straight for Wyatt and standing next to where he sat in his usual chair. Shark Bait barked happily, spinning around in circles, before spotting the bowls of dog food and going to the one on the far left meant for him. Rosalie let Baby down so she could join Shark Bait for her meal.

"Go on, Sammy, go on," Wyatt urged, patting Sammy on the head a few times and nudging him gently towards the food bowls. Sammy barked once, licked the back of Wyatt's hand before trotting over to his own bowl - he was _very_ attached to Wyatt. Rosalie had once called him 'Lassie'.

"Momma! Momma!" Tri squealed, toddler running over to her to wrap his tiny arms around her legs.

Brennan chuckled, bending down to scoop him up into her arms, swinging him around a little because it would only be a matter of time before he grew too big for her to do so anymore - she'd learned with Wyatt and Rosalie. "Hey, baby," she greeted him, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and breathing in the scent of his honey and strawberry scented baby shampoo she still used for both him and Zan. "Did you have fun watching TV?"

"Uh-huh," Tri nodded his head up and down, hand flying to his mouth and his thumb slipping between his lips. "We watched Jo's Circus."

Zan, the older-by-a-year brother, sighed in a long-suffering manner. "Momma, tell Tri we can't watch Jojo's anymore," he urged her. At her stern look, he frowned confusedly for a moment before adding, almost shyly, "Please. And thank you."

Brennan smiled approvingly, placing Tri in her seat before reaching down to grab Zan for a hug and placing him in his next right next to hers. "Why not, Zan?" she asked him, picking Tri up so she could slip into her seat and settling him on her lap - he couldn't eat meals at the kitchen table unless he was sitting on her lap. It was just a habit that had occurred from when he was a mere baby who absolutely loathed being in the high chair, all the way until now, when he was a small toddler who still hated sitting anywhere but on his mother's lap. He was going to grow up soon enough - she'd take anything and everything she could get.

"It's no fun anymore!" Zan complained. "Tomorrow we'll watch Thomas!" Demetri, disagreeing with his brother, glared at Zan and stuck his tongue out at him.

"Alright, alright, eat your breakfast or we'll be late," Brennan rolled her eyes at the two of them.

The moment the two of them had settled, Rosalie was back to questioning Brennan about Booth. "So are you going to invite him over?" she asked Brennan. Her tone was as nonchalant as possible - to someone who didn't know Rosalie was well as Brennan did, they would think that Rose didn't care even in the slightest. But Brennan saw the excited sparkle in Rosalie's stunningly vivid cobalt eyes, heard the slight smile in her words, even saw the briefest flicker of curiosity pass through her features before she'd schooled it into a neutral mask once more.

Brennan sighed, putting two pancakes on her own plate, together with two pieces of strawberries. "I don't know," she admitted. "I know I have to. Just…Let me work it out."

She managed to get the four of them to their respective schools and arrive at the Jeffersonian before any of her team members did. Zack, she wasn't very surprised with, since he depended on Hodgins, his roommate, to drive him to work every day and Hodgins tended to be grumpy and surly in the mornings, often making it just a little over the appropriate start of working hours. Angela, however, she knew had a 'hot date' last night. She was surprised to find her friend making it to work barely thirty minutes past nine. Normally, after a date, Angela came in much later, strolling in with a large, satisfied smile on her face.

This time, however, Angela wasn't as satisfied.

And this time, unfortunately for Brennan, she chose to vent to her as this was part of her 'best friend-ly duties'.

"So I spent the night at Todd's," Angela was saying, interrupting Brennan who was working on piercing together a shattered skull in Bone Storage. "You remember Todd, right? The bass player with the big hands? Big, nimble hands?"

Her tone had taken on a leery quality Brennan wasn't sure was appropriate for the work place.

"Angela, I'm trying to piece together a skull," she said, more than a little annoyed at her friend's disruption.

"You're doing a great job," Angela told her sarcastically, effectively ignoring her unspoken plea to leave her alone. "So I wake up this morning and he's sitting there, right? No clothes on, just his bass. Singing to me in this low, low voice…It was creepy."

"Angela, is this conversation really appropriate here?"

Angela shrugged. "Sorry, but I'm into live people," she said by way of apology. She paused before giving Brennan a suggestive grin, "Anyway…Todd has a friend."

Brennan stared at her incredulously. "I thought you said he was creepy?"

"Todd. Not the friend," she hurried to clarify. At Brennan's eye roll, Angela cocked her hips to the side, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me, Bren, what's Rosalie going to be doing this Friday night?"

"She has a party to attend to - Marissa Colbert's throwing one for her birthday."

"And Wyatt?"

"He has a group date with that girl Abby, whom I've yet to meet, by the way," she scowled as she pondered that. "What, am I that bad that I'm not allowed to meet his friends anymore?"

Angela smirked amusedly at her. "Well, Abby's not really a 'friend', more a 'girlfriend', sweetie," she pointed out. "And Wyatt's thirteen. He's at that age where girlfriends meeting mommy isn't cool." She waved all of this aside. "My point is, your thirteen year olds are having a better social life than you are. I'm just saying…A date every once in a while won't kill you."

"Good news," Zack interrupted the two of them as he approached.

"Sex," Angela said, not even acknowledging Zack. "You remember what that is, don't you, sweetie?"

Brennan, in turn, ignored Angela. "I hope this is work related," she said to Zack.

Zack nodded. "The Anthropology Journal is publishing our piece on the evolution of the Coronals suture," he told his mentor excitedly.

"Thank you for the interruption," Brennan told him approvingly, placing the skull she'd been gluing together on the autopsy table in front of her.

Zack held up his hand, curled into a fist, up to her. When she did nothing but stare at it, he explained awkwardly, "You're supposed to bump my fist with yours."

She'd seen Wyatt do it a thousand times with buddies of his from school, whenever they parted or greeted each other. She had absolutely no idea why they did something like that, but she assumed it was a form of teenaged greeting. So shocked was she that Zack was indulging in juvenile behavior, she could only blink at him confusedly. "Why?"

Zack shrugged. "I'm told it's a widely acknowledged gesture of mutual success," he lowered his fist.

Angela grinned at the two of them fondly, giggling slightly. "I love it when you two impersonate earthlings," she joked.

Before either Brennan or Zack could reply to that - and, really, what could they have said - Hodgins entered Bone Storage, a red box with a bow stuck on top of it in his hands. "Okay, now, this is weird," he said to Brennan, handing the box over to her. "There's some guy in the lounge who asked me to give you this."

Angela perked up instantly at the word 'guy'. "Is he alive?" she demanded somewhat ridiculously. "Because that is an excellent start to a relationship."

Brennan, once again, ignored her friend - she was already in a relationship and had no desire to be in another one. She was giving this whole monogamous thing a try and it was working out well so far.

Instead, she lifted the lid of the box. For a moment, her mind was blank, then the gift - a cashmere scarf with skulls printed all over it, which she had loved and had worn all the time before she'd 'lost' it - made perfect sense to her.

_Oh, Michael…Not now_, she thought exasperatedly. Though a part of her was very excited to see her old professor once more, the larger, most dominant part of her was wary. Michael had a tendency to be overtly affectionate whenever he was around and this simply wasn't a good time. She had just decided that she was going to tell Booth about her children…Michael in the picture wasn't going to do her much good.

"I didn't put a mirror underneath his nose or anything," Hodgins replied playfully. "He said that you'd know who he was when you opened it."

Brennan didn't say anything to her colleagues. Instead, she handed the scarf, still in the red box, to Zack and walked towards the door, exiting Bone Storage. She could barely make out Angela's words to Zack and Hodgins as she quickly retreated away from the room.

She entered the main lab area, looking around the platform for Michael, and finally spotted him up on the lounge, looking down at her.

"You left it at my place," Michael grinned, referring to the scarf.

Brennan couldn't help the small smile flitting across her lips as she looked up at her old professor leaning against the railing of the lounge. "Two years ago," she added.

Michael wasn't deterred. "First time I've been to Washington," he shrugged. "Thought that I should return it in person."

She chuckled slightly. "Why didn't you tell me that you were coming?" she asked him, curious. _At least, this way, if Booth does that overprotective caveman thing he does sometimes, I'll know who to blame on not telling him sooner_, she thought to herself.

"What if you didn't take my call?" Michael shot back, adding teasingly, "You're a big important author now."

"You could come down here, you know," Brennan raised an eyebrow, referring to the two of them speaking in raised voices across the lab just to be heard by one another.

"You could come up," Michael retorted.

Brennan pursed her lips, considering. "Half-way," she compromised.

Michael gave her that charming Professor Stires grin that always had all the girls in her class swooning. "As always," he agreed.

Michael started down the stairs leading up to the lounge, and Brennan walked towards him slowly, the two of them meeting at the floor of the lab. "I hope you don't have any expectations," Brennan warned. In the eight years she'd known Michael, if he was around, they would be having sex. This was just something that wasn't possible for her at the moment. It wasn't even something she _wanted_, strangely enough - she had always been attracted to Michael Stires but looking at him now…He paled in comparison _so extremely_ next to Booth.

"Do you?"

"Civility," she answered immediately.

He nodded, shrugging. "I can handle that," he said, hoping that he didn't sound too disappointed. For all the baggage that Temperance Brennan owned, she was wild in bed and it had, admittedly, been one of the things he'd been looking forward to the most on the way to DC. _Let's see if I can't get her to change her mind_, he challenged himself.

Brennan, on the other hand, was satisfied that she and Michael were now on the same page. Relaxing, she smiled at her old professor. "So, why are you here?" she was definitely curious about that. It wasn't like he could be here to identify any remains. Not when she herself was available.

"George Washington University wants to talk to me about heading their anthropology department," he revealed to her.

Brennan smiled. "They'd be lucky to get you," she assured him.

Michael gave her a knowing look. "I assume they tried you first," he said with a smirk.

Brennan didn't even try to deny it. "I already had a job."

"Well," Michael exhaled loudly, giving Brennan his most persuasive smile. "It seems like we should have dinner tonight. Catch up?" At Brennan's reluctant expression, he cajoled, "Oh, come on, Tempe…It's just dinner. I'm not asking you to marry me."

"I'd say no if you had," she replied without thinking, the little playful smile on the edges of her lips letting him know that she knew he was only joking. "Sure, Michael," she agreed, biting her lower lip. "Sounds reasonable."

Besides, just because she was in a monogamous relationship with Booth didn't mean that she couldn't have dinner with an old professor, right? It wasn't like Booth owned her now. She had a right to make her own decisions and have dinner with whomever she wanted. It wasn't like she was cheating on him. She was just going out with a friend for a meal. She would even inform Booth of it so he wouldn't assume that the two of them would have plans for the evening.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when her partner's voice reached her ears.

"Hey, Bones!"

Brennan turned around to see Booth strolling into the lab, a few men behind him, wheeling in an old, rusty refrigerator on a dolly.

"Whoa," Booth said to the men, his eyes fixed on the refrigerator to make sure it wasn't jostled too much. "Okay, put it here…Easy," he instructed them.

Turning around to face his beautiful partner, he flashed her a smile and gave the pompous looking man next to her a curious, albeit slightly disapproving, glance. "Bones! I got a present for ya straight out of an illegal ravine found in a dump in Fairfax," he informed her, a grin still ever-present on his handsome face. _You know the weird thing is, she's actually going to be happy about this 'present'…Normal women would want flowers or chocolates or, I don't know, jewelry…Ah, Bones_, he sighed fondly.

Getting back to the case at hand, he nodded at the fridge. "You see, our forensics people confirmed it was human matter, so rather than open it myself and risk being trashed by you for contaminating evidence…I decided to bring the whole refrigerator to you," he smiled his 'I'm-adorable-now-aren't-you-proud-of-me' smile at her.

"All we need is a toaster oven," Hodgins joked as he, Zack and Angela approached the partners and Michael.

Booth ignored him, his attention fixed solely on his partner. _God, she looks so beautiful right now…Damn, I was hoping for us to have lunch together today but with this new case she's gonna wanna rush back here after five minutes…_He sighed, internally bemoaning the fact that he and Brennan hadn't spent the night together in three days.

Clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his professionalism during the course of an investigation, he prompted, "Bones?"

Brennan stepped closer to the rusted fridge, taking a whiff of the smell of decomp that she could smell even through the closed fridge door. "Body's going to be mostly decomposed," she murmured out loud.

Angela looked mildly disgusted and eager to be anywhere but there when Brennan opened the fridge. "Which is my cure to leave," she quipped, quickly walking away from the scene and heading towards her office to draw some pictures of naked ex lovers…She _would_ draw Todd, but his weirdness factor was still freaking her out.

"This is where it gets fun," Michael grinned, the complete opposite of Angela. He stepped slightly closer, though he stood behind Brennan and her team, and watched her at work.

"Alright, you can open it," Brennan nodded to Booth.

"Alright," Booth said, pleased that he'd gotten this one right. A nod from Brennan when she was in her 'serious work mode' was a pretty impressive feat. Reaching out, Booth pried open the refrigerator door with the crowbar he held in his hand. He stepped back almost immediately after, seeing the gruesome sight before him.

There was a badly decomposed body inside the old fridge, mostly skeleton and blood. There was a pool of brown sludge on the floor of the fridge, surrounding what used to be the human being trapped inside a fridge, of old, decayed blood and God only knew what else.

"Phew!" Booth said out loud, stepping away from the stench of death, wrinkling his nose at the sight. "Okay. Uh, he or she?"

"She," Brennan answered immediately, moving forward to crouch in front of the fridge to get a better look at the remains.

"Late teens…Early twenties," Michael chimed in, forgetting for a moment that this wasn't his jurisdiction and she wasn't a lowly grad student waiting on his expertise.

Fortunately for him, Brennan didn't even seem to notice that he had spoken as she continued to examine the human remains Booth had presented to her. "I'm guessing she's been in the refrigerator for a year," Brennan estimated with narrowed eyes. "Is there enough insect activity to help us be more precise?"

Hodgins, next to her, bent down and leaned into the fridge a little. "There's always enough insect activity," he murmured, reaching out with gloves and swabs he always kept with him in case he needed it to take a swab sample.

Brennan nodded, standing up. "Alright, then, proceed with your work," she said approvingly.

She was about to turn to Booth, to request that he followed her into her office so he could brief her more about the case if he had any more information, and to inform him of her dinner with Michael, when she was interrupted. "Booth…"

"Tempe, I've got to run," Michael said, sneaking a look at his watch. "I've got some things I need to do…I'll pick you up at seven thirty tonight?"

"Um, yes," she replied, shooting a look at Booth who had gone rigid where he stood, a stunned expression coming over his features. His fists, she noticed, were clenched at his sides.

To make matters worse, an oblivious Michael smiled at her and leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek. "I'll see you then, Tempe. E-mail me your address, okay? Good luck on your case," he nodded at the fridge, then turned on his heel to leave the lab. "Beautiful lab!" he threw over his shoulder as he left.

"Thanks," Brennan muttered, eyeing her boyfriend slash partner warily.

Booth's jaw had flexed as this stranger's words registered in his mind, and his dark eyes flared dangerously when this man he had never even met before leaned in and kissed _his_ partner on her cheek.

"Uh…Remove and clean the bones, Zack," Brennan instructed her student hurriedly, walking over to Booth and grabbing him by the arm. She wanted to get him out of the general vicinity of others before he would inevitably start to rant and demand an explanation. "Booth and I will be in my office discussing the case. Please find me once you are finished."

She had to practically drag Booth by the arm all the way to her office. Once he was inside, however, he had no trouble whatsoever moving. Booth begun to pace the length of her office while Brennan worked on drawing the blinds to her large glass window and her glass double-doors.

Once she had made sure the blinds were drawn and no one could see into the inside of her office, Brennan made her way to the couch. She perched on the edge of the couch's arm rest, her eyes following his movement as he continued to pace back and forth. She _would_ have said something, but she wasn't sure what to say. _Best to just wait for him to start_, she resolved.

Finally, Booth stopped halfway through the thirty-second round of pacing, and swiveled to face her. Hands on his hips, he glared at her. "Old friend?" his tone was biting.

Hers was calm as she answered. "Old teacher, actually."

"Huh," he scoffed, not at all appeased - he read people like she read bones. It was his thing. And it was clear to him that there was more to it than just a typical 'student-teacher' relationship between Brennan and the man she was going to have dinner with tonight. "And that's all? He was your teacher? Nothing more?"

Brennan shook her head. "No, not just my teacher," she willingly informed him. "Michael and I were involved in a sexual relationship with one another."

Booth simply stood there, giving her a blank, incredulous stare.

Brennan shrugged. "What? He was my grad professor, Booth, we were both legal adults when we met and subsequently had our brief encounters," she said defensively.

Booth rolled his eyes heavenward. "Bones, that's not why I'm giving you this look, okay?" he muttered, annoyed beyond belief. "I'm giving you this look because you're going out with an ex and you're just…You're just…Ugh!" he gave a short yell of frustration, throwing his hands up in the air.

Brennan frowned at him. "I don't understand why you're so upset, Booth," she admitted to him, her eyes narrowed as she gazed at him, as though he was a botched science experiment she was trying to figure out. "It's just dinner. I'm not about to engage in intercourse with him."

Booth flinched at her clinical words. "Jeez, Bones!" he muttered, palming his face wearily as he walked over to the couch. He sank down on the soft futon, no doubt some expensive brand he had never even heard of. "Look, are you saying that if one of my ex girlfriends came to town and wanted to have dinner with me, you would be just fine with it?"

"DC is a city, not a town."

"Bones."

Brennan sighed, "No, I wouldn't."

He raised an eyebrow at her disbelievingly. "So, if…Say, Tessa, were to show up tomorrow and ask me to dinner, and I said 'yes', you wouldn't be even the tiniest bit jealous?"

"No, I wouldn't be," she insisted.

Booth snorted, shaking his head and looking away from her. He tilted back his head against the couch's headrest. He focused on breathing in and out slowly, trying to get the burning jealousy to simmer. The room was silent except for the sound of his own breathing reaching his ears, so he was completely shocked when he felt her warm body sliding on top of his lap.

His eyes fluttered open, his hands automatically going to her - one arm around her petite waist, the other resting on her thigh as she sat horizontally on his lap. "I wouldn't be jealous," she repeated yet again, a soft smile on her lips. "Because it's you. I trust you, Booth. I know the kind of man that you are. You would never hurt me."

Brennan wrapped her arm around Booth's neck, leaning her forehead against his. "Do you trust me?" her question was whispered, her cinnamon scented breath fanning over his face.

Booth felt his own smile spreading across his face, the weariness that he had been feeling before, all that jealousy and anger, melting into nothingness. "More than anything," he promised her, reaching his hand up to twine with the one she'd placed on his cheek.

He brought their entwined hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her lips. They stayed like that, just swept away in their silent moment, until Booth spoke up.

"Promise me you'll kick his ass if he makes a move on you?"

Brennan threw her head back, her sultry laugh melding into a passionate moan as his lips fell onto her throat, trailing slow, hot kisses up the expanse of milky skin.

BBBBBBB

"He's hotter than you said," Angela said out of the blue, sitting down opposite Brennan's office chair, a small smirk in place.

Brennan furrowed her brows together in confusion. "Michael?" she guessed, seeing as her ex-professor was the only man from her past that Angela had met for the first time that day.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Any other ex-lovers come knocking on your door today?"

"The 'ex' in 'ex-lover' is not a variable, it's a constant…Like the speed of light," Brennan corrected her friend. She did not want Angela going around thinking that she and Michael were going to resume their sexual relationship while he was in DC. She knew Angela had a tendency to gossip with their team members and she did not need Booth to start overhearing these untrue guesses her best friend had.

Angela clearly wasn't so convinced. "Save your dirty talk for the hunky professor," she advised.

"I can assure you, our relationship is purely platonic," Brennan insisted. "What we share is a love of science." Angela still didn't look convinced, so she added, "I promise, Angela. I have no inclination whatsoever to have sex with Michael Stires tonight."

"Uh-huh."

"Yes, now I have to get this data together for Booth," she gestured towards their newly discovered information on Maggie Schilling, the victim.

"Sure," Angela chuckled, standing up. "Have a good dinner tonight," she couldn't help but toss over her shoulder, her tone light and teasing.

Brennan rolled her eyes, grabbing the papers with information Booth would need and standing up. It was almost six. She should have time to head to the Hoover, give Booth their new findings and head home to change for her dinner with Michael.

"Maggie Schilling went missing eleven months ago," Booth was saying as he sat at his desk, the formal FBI file on Maggie in his hands. "Parents got a ransom note demanding a million dollars. Negotiations, they dragged on for a couple of weeks, then suddenly all contact stopped…The assumption was that the kidnappers killed her."

"No visual physical trauma," Brennan told him, looking through her own file that she'd put together with Jeffersonian resources.

"Cause of death?"

Brennan shook her head. "Not yet," she sounded displeased by that. "But there are stress fractures on both wrists and we have some people running chemical analysis and toxicity screens on the affluent in the refrigerator."

"Okay," he nodded, closing the file and standing up. Walking around his desk, he stopped an inch away from where Brennan stood, and leaned against the wooden table. "Call me later?" Brennan smiled at him knowingly, giving him a playfully stern expression. "I'm not working tonight, remember? I have a dinner," she reminded him unnecessarily.

Booth sighed. "Yeah, I know," he said in this sulky tone she found absolutely adorable. "I was hoping it was cancelled."

"Why would it be cancelled?"

He shrugged. "You decided to take pity on me and my slightly bruised ego?" he guessed. Brennan chuckled and shook her head, a playful, happy expression on her face as she gazed at him with bright eyes. "Michael Stires got into a car accident and was declared dead upon impact?"

"_Booth_!"

"It's okay, Bones," he continued to indulge himself in his fantasy, grinning winsomely at her, inching just a tiny bit closer. "I'll be your shoulder to cry on…" Lowering his voice to that husky tone he _knew_ turned her on like no other, he added, "I'll comfort you through your grieving process."

Brennan laughed, smacking him on the forearm and good-humouredly shoving the hand he'd placed on her hip away. _Even if_ that mischievous twinkle in his darkened eyes, and the way that his thumb had been stroking her hip, and that seductive tone of his voice was making her want to rub her thighs together.

"Stop it," she scolded him lightly. "I'm going to go. I've got to get home and change…I'll see you tomorrow?"

"It's not too late to cancel on him," he told her, only half joking.

"I'm not going to cancel on him, Booth."

"Stand him up? Harsh, but I'm game," he grinned lopsidedly at her.

Brennan rolled her eyes. Peeking over her shoulder at the calm bullpen, she snuck a quick kiss from Booth. "I'll call you later - maybe," she allowed. "'night, Booth."

Eight fifteen o'clock at night found the two partners together in Booth's bed, the both of them naked underneath his sheets.

"So…" Booth trailed off, smiling smugly up at her as she laid on top of him, one hand running down the smooth expanse of her back while the other brushed through her silky soft hair. "Safe to say Professor Stires was a dud?"

"I don't know what that means," Brennan laughed. "But if you're referring to the fact that I was so distracted all evening thinking about you that I had to feign being tired to cut the dinner short and come here…Then, yes, he was a 'dud'."

Booth chuckled, rolling them over so that she was pinned underneath him. "Well, that wasn't really what I was asking," he confessed, a large grin on his face. "But I'll take it!"

"Mm…" Brennan moaned in appreciation as Booth's lips descended on hers, their mouths parting and their tongues tangling hotly with one another. "Ooh!" she jumped slightly, giggling as she felt his large hands running down her sides lightly, purposely tickling her. "I love when you do that," she said on a groan as she felt his fingers slipping into her slick heat, finding perfect rhythm instantly. Her back arched off the bed, her eyes flying wide open as she stared up at the ceiling with glassy, unfocused eyes. Her hands clawing at his back as she gasped at the feel of his fingers stroking her walls so expertly, "_Booth…_"

"Shh, baby, I know," he murmured against the side of her neck, finding that delectable spot where her scent was always stronger, sweeter somehow, and parting his lips, sucking the skin into his mouth until it grew red. "Let go for me, Bones," he urged.

"Mm…Mm-hmm, _oh_…"

BBBBBBB

"Using a refrigerator to hide a body," Hodgins scoffed, standing next to Angela and Zack up on the platform as they stared down at Maggie Schilling's remains. "Kinda perfect, isn't it?"

Angela chose to ignore his comment, choosing instead to focus on the time and the entrance to the lab, her keen eye looking out for her best friend's arrival.

"A good way to remove the victim without being detected," Zack agreed with Hodgins. "The rubber gasket sealed in the odor."

"Maybe the company should use that in their ads?" Angela suggested wryly. Wanting to change the subject oh-so-desperately, she commented casually, "She's late. She's never late."

Hodgins threw her a raised eyebrow. "You're worried about her?"

"I'm happy for her," Angela corrected.

"Why?" Zack frowned at the quirky artist, wondering if this was one of those things were only 'normal people' understood, or if this was one of those things were only Angela understood.

Angela gave Zack a disbelieving look. Hodgins answered for her, giving his friend an amused smile. "Remember that time you were late?" he prompted, thinking how it was sort of sad that Zack had only one or two times, in all the time they'd known each other, been late to work.

"Oh…" Zack's eyes widened in understanding. "Yeah." He seemed suddenly uncomfortable with the subject - his teacher having sex with _her_ ex-teacher wasn't something he'd like to think about.

"Ooh, there she is," Angela perked up, seeing Brennan entering the lab followed by the hunky ex professor himself.

"Good morning, all," Brennan greeted her team members.

_Nice smile_, Angela noted with the eye of someone who had enough experience under her belt to know a deeply satisfied woman when she saw one. _Healthy glow. Slightly flushed cheeks…Someone got it hot last night_.

"You know, you can take the day off," Angela was eager to point out. She knew that what Brennan and Michael probably had going on wasn't something long term, but hell, the woman was on a dry spell. Months in Guatemala, then immediately being swamped by work for months after she returned? God, she had to be dying in the draught. So if she was going to have a one night stand with her ex professor, it was in Angela's opinion that she should do it for longer than just one night. "You deserve _one_ day."

_Ugh, believe me, I know_, Brennan thought sullenly of how her morning with Booth had been interrupted by Michael calling her on her cell phone, wondering if he could pick her up and drive her to the lab to explore more of it since it was his first time with 'an all access pass' to the Medico-Legal lab.

"Well, Michael wanted to look at our equipment," she shrugged, as though it hadn't greatly frustrated her to have to leave Booth's warm embrace for the professor who hadn't stopped making sexual innuendo after another at dinner before she'd run out on him.

_Thank God I didn't tell Booth that_, she shook her head at how riled up she could only imagine her partner to get if she had. _Then again…I love the possessive, frustrated, 'I'm-jealous' sex that we have sometimes…_Brennan thought fondly of when he had 'claimed' her, so to speak, in her hotel room he shared back in Aurora after he had witnessed her dancing with three other men on their night out.

She shook herself out of it, biting her lower lip to hide her smile, when Angela commented lewdly, "I'm gonna let that one go." Angela nodded at Hodgins and Zack, "The guys wanted to meet him anyway."

"They could learn a lot from him," Brennan threw a praise for Michael, truly grateful for everything he'd taught her when she had been his student - academically speaking, of course.

Brennan moved away from the group, eager to start work on Maggie Schilling, and Angela followed her.

"So…" Angela said, bright eyed and eager. "Spill."

Brennan looked up, seeing that only she and Angela were at the autopsy table, the three men still standing by the side of the platform, out of earshot. "Spill what?"

"You and Michael Stires," Angela clarified. "What happened last night?"

Brennan shrugged, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. "Nothing," she said truthfully. "He picked me up, we went to dinner…That's it."

Angela raised an eyebrow at Brennan, his expression incredulous. "Oh, come on," she rolled her eyes. "You have the very definition of an afterglow proudly displayed on your face…You can't expect me to believe that nothing happened between you and the professor."

Brennan looked at Angela as though she was slightly obtuse for not understanding her earlier words. "That's exactly what I expect you to believe," as literal as ever. "I'm being honest when I said that Michael and I did not have sex last night."

"This morning?"

"No."

Angela frowned at her friend. "Then…?"

Before her unnervingly intuitive friend had a chance to question her further, they were interrupted by Hodgins, Zack and Michael joining them at the table.

Brennan sighed a silent sigh of relief, immediately addressing her grad student with professional courtesy, "What have you found?"

Angela tuned most of their scientific jargon out as Brennan and Michael bantered about the victim's x-rays. Instead, her focus was turned onto Michael Stires himself. Angela observed the body language between Brennan and Michael - she was faced slightly away from the professor, and he was trying not to be too eager to be near her, keeping his body carefully angled away from hers. It wasn't typical of two people who had just seen each other naked. Angela noted the tensed posture of his body, getting even tenser as Brennan continued to disagree with him, and the slight scowl of his lips.

_No man that had gotten laid just last night would be that tense_, she thought with a sigh. _So Brennan had been telling the truth. What the hell was going on then?_

She tuned back in just to hear Brennan ask, "In what kind of concentration?"

"Given her probable size and weight, it's fatal," Hodgins answered her instantly.

Again with the morbidity, Angela cringed inwardly. "Where'd you go to dinner last night?" she asked, determined to find out more - there was just no way that 'dinner, full stop' was what happened. Brennan seemed like she'd gotten the most enjoyable time of her life a few hours ago, and Michael seemed like he was getting more and more pissed off, though Angela could see he was trying to mask it.

"Sarantino's," Brennan replied, doing that thing where she multi-tasked by focusing on her work and distractedly answering personal questions thrown her way.

"Have fun?" she asked with a leery grin.

Michael gave her a forced smile in return. "We were - until Tempe cut our date short," he gave the woman in question a pointed glance.

"I told you - I wasn't feeling well," Brennan tried her best not to look at Angela, knowing that she probably had some sort of weird theory crazy enough to be the truth. "And I also told you that it wasn't a date. Just dinner, Michael."

"Right," Michael sighed.

Angela, suspicious that Brennan had foregone her hot 'not-date' with her hot ex professor in favor of the case - _my God, woman, what would it take you to get laid!_ - narrowed her eyes at Brennan. "You didn't come back to the lab, did you?"

"No," Brennan replied. "I went home. I wanted to get in a good night's sleep. I guess I was just tired."

"Uh-huh."

Again with the disbelieving tone.

Veering the subject sharply away from her personal life, Brennan said, "We also need to know if the hydromorphone was administered intravenously or orally." There was no shame in admitting that she was showing off her success and deserved, well-earned title to her ex-professor, was there?

BBBBBBB

Booth and Brennan had gone to Mary Costello's apartment, to talk to her about Maggie Schilling, a patient she would've met at her previous job. Booth's findings of rusty scrape marks made from a fridge in the kitchen had led to the two of them being in the apartment, still, hours later, FBI technicians scouring the place for evidence while Mary and her husband, Scott, were brought down to the Hoover to be detained as possible murder suspects.

Brennan had been the one to find the box of sadomasochist sexual toys in the Costello's bedroom closet.

"Well, the fridge we found Maggie in is a match with the marks on the Costello's floor," Booth informed Brennan as he walked over to where she was stationed in the living room, gloves on as she looked through Mary and Scott Costello's collection of bondage toys.

"They're sadomasochist fetishists," she clarified unnecessarily.

"Yeah," Booth picked up a box of something weird that he couldn't identify and had no desire to identify before setting it down, resisting the urge to shudder. "They turned the basement into a fun room," he added sarcastically, cringing as he remembered the horrific basement.

Brennan, as usual, turned to anthropology. "Seeking sexual gratification through the manipulation of power," she nodded as though this all made perfect sense to her. She picked up a spiked collar laying on the table, eyeing it curiously. "Probably the oldest of fetishes; master-slave." She set the spiked collar back down on the table. "It's all about dominance."

Booth scoffed. "Well this sort of thing only comes up when the bloom goes off the rose, if you know what I mean," he commented, trying not to sound too lewd at a crime scene - this apartment, after all, had been where Maggie Schilling had been murdered.

"I don't know what you mean," Brennan stared up confusedly at him.

"You know," he pressed on. "When the regular stuff…When it gets old, you need to spice it up, it's over. When the sex is good, you don't need any help."

And though he hadn't actually meant to refer to the two of them, Brennan took it as such. Images of their encounter last night - and early enough this morning that it may as well have been late last night - flashed through her mind, causing a reaction in her body that was much too inappropriate for a crime scene.

She settled for smiling at him wolfishly, "Well, that's for sure."

He choked a little on his own saliva. "I'm sorry?"

"I was agreeing."

"Yeah, well, don't," he blinked, trying to regain his balance - they bickered. It was their thing. "Okay? It kind of freaks me out."

Brennan chuckled, shaking her head at his absurdity. "I was just saying that I, myself, feel no inclination towards either pain or dominance when it comes to sex," she shrugged as she said all this as nonchalantly as one would mention the weather.

Booth, suddenly much more interested in her conversation now than he had been just mere seconds ago, lowered his voice, stepping closer to where she was so that none of the others in the apartment had any chance of hearing. "Are you sure?" he asked teasingly.

"Yeah, I'm sure," her coy grin matched his own.

"Because you can be very bossy," he continued to joke, eyes twinkling merrily.

She mock glared at him, picking up a whip from the table and whipping him lightly on the shoulder when he bent down to look at one of the items on the table. Booth gave her a playfully stern expression before reaching out with his pen, picking up a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs with it, whistling lowly.

He saw the Costello's being led out of the apartment in handcuffs and held up the handcuffs higher so they could see it. "Look at him, huh?" he said to Brennan, nodding in the Costello's direction. Whoo. Look at him, all smiley. I bet he just loves these things."

Choosing wisely not to point out to Booth that _he_ sometimes enjoyed tying her up - though they never used his handcuffs, and always used one of his soft ties or her silk scarves - since the mild bondage they indulged in from time to time were nowhere near as extensive or dangerous as the ones the Costello's preferred, Brennan reached out with her gloved hands to gently take the fuzzy handcuffs from where it hung from Booth's pen.

"These could explain the stress fractures," Brennan informed Booth, opening up one of the cuffs to examine the inside. "Her bones were brittle from the disease…Struggling would cause the cracks we saw."

BBBBBBB

"Do you really think he can handle your success?"

Brennan and Angela were taking a coffee break as Booth spoke to the US attorney handling Maggie Schilling's case, giving him the information Brennan had put together for him to present.

"Hmm?"

"Michael, I mean. You think he's fine with all of it?"

Brennan shot Angela a questioning look. "What, because of today?" she asked, causing her friend to nod. "We've always been competitive," she waved Angela's concern aside.

"I know," Angela said earnestly, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "But he's a man, and his student, a woman, has surpassed him."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Michael is extremely secure, Ange," she said, firmly believing it, too. His confidence in not just himself, but his talent in the field, had probably been the greatest thing about him that had attracted her at twenty-three, asides from his physical attributes, of course.

"Honey, when you stuck it to him today, he was upset," Angela insisted, eyeing Brennan sympathetically.

"It was a healthy debate between scientists," Brennan countered. She paused, before adding, "You don't know Michael."

Angela shrugged. "I know men," she said, as though this was enough. "And I know what happens when two people start sleeping together."

Brennan exhaled loudly. _Not this again_. "It's not like that," she said in a voice much softer and much more in control that she believed she could muster. "We're friends. Colleagues. That's all."

"Colleagues with benefits."

"I don't know what that means," Brennan snapped, glaring at Angela. "But Michael and I are not involved. We are not sleeping together again. Not this time. I'm sorry if that's difficult for you to understand, but he is merely a teacher I used to have visiting me while he's in DC."

Before Angela had a chance to reply, Booth approached them, jogging up the steps to the lounge. "Bones," he called out, causing the two currently-at-odds friends to look his way. "The judge is, um, holding them without bail. The US attorney is thinking about sending you flowers."

"Facts are facts," and she was pretty smug about it, too.

He, however, didn't get the chance to smirk at the cute little proud smile she was wearing. "Ah, Bones…I have to ask…" he trailed off a little uncomfortably. Not only had Brennan and Michael gone on a dinner together, be it extremely short or not, they had also spent quite some time at the lab together. Booth knew for a fact, having been right there just barely an hour ago, that they had discussed the case with the facts all thrown in. "How much have you been sharing with, uh, the professor?"

"Ha! The eternal question, apparently!" Angela scoffed, wagging her finger at Brennan as though Booth's question had proved something vital to her.

Booth scowled at Angela. "I meant on the case," he clarified, trying not to sound as disgusted as he was that Angela was assuming that Brennan and Michael were together again.

"I bounce everything off of him," Brennan replied nonchalantly. "Why?"

Booth winced at her words, hissing slightly as his head reeled back. "You got to keep him out of it from now on," he informed her, voice low and urgent. "Out of it? Why?"

_Well, because it pisses me off that you're still so eager to please your ex-professor slash ex-lover_, he thought sarcastically. "Well, you know that appointment he had today?"

"Yeah?"

"He met with the Costello's lawyer," he said, his tone and expression apologetic despite how much he hated Michael Stires and was too inappropriately happy that the guy was doing something terrible enough for Brennan not to dismiss. "Michael is their expert witness. It's his job to tear apart the case that you've built."

"I told you, Bren," Angela said knowingly, tilting her head to the side.

Brennan's shocked gaze snapped to hers. "What, you think Michael purposely chose to become the Costello's expert witness because he was envious of my professional success?" she asked incredulously.

Angela shrugged, "It happens, sweetie…Men like their egos stoked. You kicked his down and stomped all over it." She sighed, seeing that Brennan was still disbelieving, and noticing the concerned look on Booth's face. "I'm going to head back down, sweetie," she said, figuring that Booth probably wanted to talk to his partner alone. "See you later."

Once Angela had descended the stairs to the platform, Booth walked over to Brennan, sinking down next to her on the couch she was sitting on. "You okay, Bones?" he asked, placing a comforting hand on her knee.

Brennan sighed, shrugging. "I guess," she responded a little sullenly.

"Hey, it's okay to be upset," he coaxed. "I understand."

She shook her head, looking away from him to stare at an invisible spot in the distance. "I guess I am a little upset," she admitted after a while. "Michael and I have known each other for a long time. I guess I can't help feeling…"

"Betrayed?"

"No. Confused," she corrected. "I'm confused."

"Oh," he sucked in a ragged breath and let it out slowly. "Well, I don't know what to tell ya, Bones. I don't know the guy. But, listen…" he bumped her shoulder gently with his own, causing her to turn her head and focus her pretty eyes on his once more. "He's an idiot for going up against you. You're way smarter than he is."

At this, he was able to elicit a small, genuine, smile from her lips. "That's true," she agreed, not at all modest in any way.

He chuckled warmly, shaking his head at her well-placed trust in her abilities. "Listen," he said, his voice low and pleasantly seductive as he leaned in closer to her. "Why don't we go out tonight? Just you and me? Huh? We could go for dinner at that sushi place you love so much…Or we could stay in? Order in Thai at my place?"

Brennan gazed at him adoringly, knowing that he wanted to make her feel better. "That sounds nice," she sighed, leaning in as well until their noses pressed gently against one another and their lips almost brushed together. "But I'm going to be busy tonight…Rain check?"

There was only one thing that would make her feel better and she was going to do everything she could to get it. _Michael, you'd better be ready to explain_.

"How could I not be upset?" Brennan demanded, glaring at Michael across the table. It was seven thirty and they were, yet again, having dinner at another restaurant. He had picked a cozy little romantic Italian bistro that should've set alarms in the back of her mind had she not know him so well, and was she not as faithful and doubtless about her monogamous relationship with Booth as she was. "Basically, you were spying on me."

"Spying?" Michael scoffed. "It's a criminal proceeding. You are required by law to disclose all your findings to the defense attorney."

"I'm only required to provide you with the raw facts we intend to enter into evidence," she countered in a voice that suggested she was quickly losing her patience. "Not the process by which I arrived at those facts."

"I apologize," he bowed his head slightly. "That's a nuance that escaped me." Brennan shook her head, not at all charmed by him - how could she when the coy smile he was throwing her way paled in comparison to Booth's own flirty grin? "Why didn't you just tell me, Michael?" she asked, her voice slightly less angry now.

"'cause the defense isn't required to tell the prosecution anything," he replied, without a hint of remorse. "In fact, it's grounds for a mistrial." Seeing the unimpressed look on her face, he sighed and tried a different approach. "Look, I've never done this before. You're the teacher in this situation. I'm the student." "A little competitive."

"Part of the job at the university is to be an expert witness and, yes, I would like to do that job at least as well as you," if she had been any better than she was at reading people, even just a tiny bit, she would hear the slight tang of bitterness in his voice he hadn't been able to conceal and see the envious glint in his eyes. But she wasn't, so her shoulders relaxed and she started to give in, which he saw immediately. "But if you feel I've overstepped some boundary here…I'll back out of the case," he guilt-tripped.

"No," Brennan sighed. "Stay on the case. It's fine. Just…Don't expect me to be giving you any more insight to my team's findings."

"Fair enough," he conceded, the two of them taking sips of their wine and getting back to their pasta. "You know, Tempe…I know you didn't seem receptive to my advances the other night…"

Brennan shot him a warning glare. "Michael," she warned.

He held up a hand before reaching across the table to take hers. "Come on, Tempe," he tried to coax. "The two of us have always had something special together."

She shrugged, gently extricating her hand from his. "Maybe," she conceded. "But that's in the past now, Michael. I'm glad that we are able to share a meal together as two friends without having the underlying intention of intercourse, but I have to admit that I am not comfortable with us pursuing this subject any longer."

He wasn't about to give up so easily, though. "Is it because of your children?"

Michael, of course, knew about Rosalie, Wyatt, Zan and Tri. The first time they'd met, when she had been twenty-three, Rose and Wyatt were already almost eight years old. When they'd seen each other again two years ago, both Zan and Tri had both already been born - Tri had been over a year old. Michael had never been overly involved in any of her kids' lives - she had never let him and he had never been interested in being involved - but he knew well enough to know that she placed their needs, wants and comforts above hers.

She shook her head, even as he asked, "Are they not comfortable with this?"

"No, Michael, I just…" she sighed. "I do not feel the same attraction to you as I once did. I'm sorry, but I don't feel the desire to resume our physical relationship while you are in DC."

He stared at her for a long time, during which she stayed silent and let him process her words. Finally, after a few long moments, he gave her a slightly forced smile. "I understand, Tempe," he nodded. "I'm sorry. I'm making this awkward here…Let's just forget this. Should I order us another bottle of wine?"

She shook her head, smiling, pleased that he was finally on the same page as her. "No, thank you, Michael," she declined. "I've had enough alcohol. I have something I need to do after dinner, and I don't want to be inebriated whilst I do it."

"Goodnight, Michael," she smiled at him as they reached their respective cars, parked side by side in the parking lot outside the bistro.

He nodded. "Goodnight, Temperance," he returned. "Are you sure you…?" he trailed off suggestively.

For a moment, she was lost, until she noticed the way his eyes raked over her outfit (a pair of tight-fitting black jeans paired with a sexy low-cut maroon halter top tunic and strappy golden stilettos). Shaking her head and blaming it on male testosterone, she said in a wry tone, "I'm sure, Michael. I'll see you."

She waved at him a little as she stepped into her car (the sports car her publishers had given to her - and she'd repaired after following Booth's 'advice' on parking straight - instead of her hybrid SUV because she was alone tonight and she didn't get many opportunities as it was to drive her second car around since she drove the kids to school every day and they needed the space in the SUV), sliding the key into the ignition and starting the engine.

Brennan drove straight to Booth's, parked outside his building as she called home to ensure that everything was fine ("Yes, Sylvia, I will only be an hour or two the most… Please put my children on the phone as I'd like to speak with them. Thank you."). She made her way out of the car and into his building some twenty-five minutes after she'd arrived.

"Bones?" Booth blinked, wondering if he was having hallucinations. It was fifteen minutes to ten, and he had been multi-tasking, reading up on the Schilling case file for court, drinking beer and watching a taped Flyers game. Now he was at the door, his gorgeous partner looking sexy as hell. _Did I fall asleep?_ He wondered stupidly.

"Booth, aren't you going to let me in?" she asked, feigning an annoyed tone to mask her amusement. The flattery in her blue eyes couldn't be hidden, however, as she reveled in the way he was rendered speechless at the sight of her all dolled up.

He nodded wordlessly, trying to shake the awed lust from his brain even just a little. "Yeah, sure," he stepped aside, letting her slip into his apartment. He closed the door behind her, breathing out slowly. He spun around, running a hand through his short hair. "So, why are you all dressed up, Bones?" he hoped he sounded as casual as his words - his heart had started beating double-time the moment he'd seen her all sultry looking at his door.

"I went to dinner with Michael," she informed him, her nonchalant tone matching his. She walked over to the small table he kept near the door, placing her purse down on it before shrugging off her side-ruched, open cardigan sweater. She placed it aside before walking further into the apartment, unaware of how her partner was taking her 'announcement'.

Booth had choked a little on air, his skin reddening with every second, as he stared after his partner. _She had worn that…She had gone out looking so beautifully gorgeous, dressed up all pretty, for Michael Stires!_ He could feel the oncoming of a very powerful, very ugly headache headed his way.

His eyes followed her movements as she walked away from him, her hips sashaying from side to side without her even realizing it.

"You went out with Michael Stires?" he blurted out, anger and jealousy boiling in his blood.

Brennan threw him a look over her shoulder. "I didn't 'go out' with him," she rolled her eyes, disappearing into the kitchen to grab one of his beers before reappearing in the living room. "I asked him to dinner so that I could question him about his involvement with the Costello's case."

_So, what's wrong with you going to coffee with him in sweats?_ Booth thought sullenly. "And you thought…Hmm, let me wear something sexy for my ex while I'm at it?" he couldn't help spitting out, his eyes raking over her figure once more.

Brennan shrugged, still not getting that he was jealous beyond belief, that his eyes were burning hot. "Rosalie, my, uh…Roommate," she supplied, remembering his assumption a few months back when Zack had mentioned Rose to Booth for the first time. "Thought that Michael would be more susceptible to offering me the truth if I were to dress slightly more provocatively than I had planned."

"Okay…What?"

"It's not like I had to seduce him - men are very visual creatures. It's probably why males ejaculate so easily just by looking at naked pictures of women."

"Again, I say - what!"

Brennan took another long swig of the beer she held in her hands, the elegance of the way she was dressed and the way she stood so tall contrasting sharply with her actions, before setting the beer down on his coffee table. "I was very clear to Michael that I have no desire to resume our previous physical relationship," she assured him, unaware that this wasn't soothing him in the slightest. "I dodged his advances and told him 'no' very clearly."

Smiling brightly, she added, "Don't worry, Booth. He got the message by the end of dinner…You know, you look a little flushed…"

He ignored that, advancing slowly on her. "So, let me get this straight," he said, his voice hoarse and rough with the white hot jealousy he felt. "Not only did you go on a date with your professor and didn't tell me about it-"

"It wasn't a date, Booth-"

He cut her off, reaching her. His large hands spanned over her slim, curvy waist, walking her backwards, their bodies so close together that their chests brushed with every step they took.

"-you also wore this fucking sexy outfit," she gasped, not only at his words - so vulgar when he rarely even cursed when they were naked and in bed - but at the feel of his living room wall suddenly pressed against her back. Booth's fingers went to the hem of her tunic dress, lifting it up as he fisted the material. "And decided to seduce another man with how perfectly gorgeous you are?"

Brennan swallowed at the intensity in his eyes, but she refused to back down. She was a strong woman, always the dominant one, and she knew that her own dominant personality clashed with his constantly, in and out of bed. She wasn't going to give in or back down. Instead, she lifted her chin defiantly. "I didn't seduce anyone," she protested. "You're being completely ridic-"

His fingers had brushed against her warmth, hand creeping up the fly of her jeans to unbutton and unzip the denim pants. "You don't think you mesmerize everyone in your path when you look like this?" he demanded hotly, head dropping to her shoulder before placing furious, suckling kisses down her shoulder, all the way to her neck. The strings of her halter top were pretty thin, so he was able to taste her bare skin with no interruptions.

While his mouth worked her neck, ravaging kisses all over it, his hands pulled down her jeans, his body pinning her further into the wall. She was gasping into his mouth, her arms winding around his neck and her legs rising to wrap around his waist as he finally yanked her jeans off of her toned legs, bringing with it her lacy blank panties, and threw them somewhere to his right.

"You don't think I _know_ you know you're so unbelievably hot, Bones?" he demanded rhetorically, one large hand cupping her by the side of her body, the other moving to her hair, fingers tangling in her soft tresses before yanking roughly, tilting her head back. She cried out slightly, in pleasured pain, and his mouth descended on that long, creamy white throat, placing little bites as he went along.

"_Booth…_" she moaned, her hands fumbling as though she was fifteen again, inexperienced and nervous about her first time. "Booth, more," was what he had reduced her to.

Somehow, though she wasn't paying enough attention to what she was doing to really know how, she managed to get the thin undershirt and the sweatpants he wore off of him. He had been busy with his hands, too, her halter dress pooled by his feet. "So pretty," he breathed, his eyes falling on the miles and miles of ivory skin and gorgeous lace-covered curves, his hands running over her body.

Brennan's fingers threaded through his short hair, tugging his mouth back to hers, eager to taste him again - like beer and something spicy and Booth - a soft, needful moan escaping her lips when his teeth grazed her bottom lip.

Flashes of her went through his mind as he kissed her, flickers that lost what little sense they made in the first place when Brennan started to undulate her hips, grinding herself against his swollen member. His fingers, splayed against her naked lower back, pressed into her skin.

A sudden, unwanted flash of thought, of her looking so beautiful, meeting her ex-professor/ex-lover the way she had tonight…It made his head rear back, his mouth tearing away from hers.

His eyes blazed with the fire that burned within him. "You're mine, Bones," he told her on a possessive growl, his hand skimming over her belly, tickling her flesh.

Brennan, despite being a quivering mess in his arms, stared back at him as defiantly as she could manage. "I'm not property, Booth," she snapped. "I don't belong to anyone."

"But you are mine, Bones," he insisted, hand cupping over her heat, and stilling. "I'm yours, do you know that? Just yours. No other woman would be doing this to me. No other woman could."

"That's not my problem, Booth," she hissed, bucking into his hand to get the friction she so desperately needed.

"Say it."

"No."

"Say you're mine."

"No!" she snarled into his face, her eyes unseeing as his fingers sunk into her heat, her mouth parting in a soundless scream as his fingers began to move furiously with no preamble whatsoever, sliding in and out of her slick heat with ease.

He had to bend his head only slightly to close his lips around her pearled nipple over the lacy material, her back arching away from the wall and into him, her eyes sliding close and her fingers raking over his scalp at the feel of his tongue tugging at her nub, his fingers still working her bundle of nerves frantically.

Booth knew Brennan, knew her better than everyone in her life. He had made it a mission of his to learn about her as much as he could. At this point, just a few months into her letting him get close to her, he probably knew her body even more intimately than the way her mind worked and the way her heart moved, but he still knew her.

And he used that knowledge quite frequently.

Like right now.

He was so in tuned to her, to her every ragged breath and the way she bit down on her the corner of her lip whenever she was so close, that every time her walls started to clench, to flutter, he would slow his pace. Slow it to a maddeningly leisured pace that she would come down from the almost-high she had been feeling, her core still dripping yet, her inner walls still being deliciously rubbed and her desire nowhere near sated.

"Booth!" she growled, after the third time this has happened, her hands smacking on his chest. "Stop! I need…I need…"

"Shh, I know what you need," he soothed, that same wicked glint from before still present in his dark eyes. "But you know what I need, too, baby. Just say it."

His fingers curled inside of her, knuckle deep, and he pulled the lacy garment of her bra down from her right breast using his teeth, his tongue immediately latching onto one perfectly hardened, perfectly pebbled coral pink tip, growing even more aggressive as he laved and pulled on her nipple. "No," she practically sobbed out the word, her head rolling from one side to another. "Booth, just, please…"

Her plea surprised the both of them - she had always been feisty in bed, and he had never once heard her beg. She'd called out to a God she didn't believe, she'd moaned his name in this loud, sultry moan that made him so hard he thought he'd have blue balls for the rest of his life, she'd even liked to be dominated every once in a while, letting him call all the shots while she was at his mercy…But she had never once said 'please'.

Booth shook himself out of his shock, knowing that if he faltered, Brennan would be fast enough to turn the tables on him. As it was, her hand was already creeping down, reaching for him. "Nah-uh, Bones," he chided, wrapping his hand around her wrist and pulling her away just as her fingers brushed the tip of him. "We do this my way." He swore he heard her whimpered, then. "Tell me that you are mine," he urged once more, his words slightly muffled as he spoke directly into her chest.

He was starting to slow down again, fingers and tongue, and she couldn't take it. She couldn't take that slowfastslow pace again. Delirious and so damn frustrated that she hadn't been able to orgasm yet, she yielded. "Fine, fine! Booth, I'm yours, I'm yours, okay!" she sobbed out, little tremors that wasn't nearly enough shooting through her entire body, making her tremble. "Just, please…Please, more, I need more…I can't…"

If she had been anywhere near coherent, she would've felt his lips curve into a smile around her breast. Instead, all she could focus on was the fact that his mouth had closed in completely on her nipple, sucking at her furious enough to make her chest sore pleasantly, and his fingers were moving faster now, his thumb brushing her clit for the first time since she'd walked in that door tonight, rubbing quick, hard circles on it until she splintered, her eyes staring wide eyed at the ceiling, little stars dotting her vision.

She hadn't had time to recover, little aftershocks still shooting through her body, and hadn't even realized that his fingers had left her body, when his hands cupped her ass and brought her impossibly closer to him, sliding into her in one go, stretching her much more than his fingers had.

"Ahh…" she cried out as he suddenly filled her, still in awe after all these months how large he felt inside of her.

"You are mine, Bones," he reiterated, agreeing with the words he'd forced her to say, forcing himself to go oh-so-slowly as he pulled out of her almost entirely before sinking back into her heat to the hilt. "We belong together."

She wasn't really listening to his words, just to the way he kept his rhythm. He wasn't going as slowly as before, with his fingers, but he wasn't as fast as she would've liked. Her body was still so sensitive to him, though, thanks to what he had done to her, that it didn't take long for her to fall over the edge again even with the pace he was setting.

He didn't stop moving inside of her even as she started to calm down, just slowed his pace even further. "Booth…" she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a pleading sigh.

Booth didn't head her plea. Instead, he continued moving just like that - fast enough to give her an orgasm, then slowing down until she calmed so he could move faster all over again - until she fell apart two more times in his arms.

Finally, when she thought she was just going to implode in his arms, Booth's strong arm wrapped around her petite waist, angled downwards so that his hand could cup her ass and pull her flushed against him. His other hand went to her hair, tilting her head back with silky tresses curled in his fist.

"Mine," he growled out once more, in a primitive way that made a new rush of her arousal coating him as he started to move faster and faster, at a dizzying speed.

Brennan cried out as she felt his teeth sink into the side of her neck, marking her more than he already had earlier. Their chests brushed against each other as he continued to increase his speed, the friction causing her to gasp and shudder slightly. His fingers slid through her hair before reaching down between them, brushing at her clit over and over again until she came apart in his arms, harder than she'd ever had.

Booth seemed to lose his control, then, thrusting into her with abandon, short, erratic movements that felt so damn good yet so damn painful to her sensitive body. When he finally came apart, pumping into her one last time and spilling into her womb, she came again, just a small one, but nevertheless still as satisfying.

Her legs slid from around his waist, lowering to the floor, though she didn't let go of her hold around his neck - her entire body was still trembling and her knees felt too weak. She was afraid her legs would give out on her if she tried standing on her own. Booth, himself, was panting heavily, leaning on her and almost crushing her against the wall.

When she had finally calmed enough to stand on her own, she slid her arms from around his neck. He didn't relinquish his hold on her, but that was fine by her. Her arms went around to her back, quickly unsnapping the clasp of her bra and pulling the garment from her - the material felt uncomfortable on her sweaty, overheated skin.

Booth's arms were wrapped around her body, his head dropped to her shoulder and face angled into her neck, lips pressing soft, soothing kisses on the hickeys and bite mark he'd left on her skin.

She allowed him to, her fingers flying to his hair and brushing through the short strands, loving how soft his hair was when it was gel-free.

After a moment, though, she spoke up, calling his name. "Booth?"

"Hmm?" He didn't look up from her neck, just hummed against her tender skin.

"I still don't agree that I belong to you," she said, finally gaining his attention enough to get him to straighten up and look at her. "I don't believe in the possession of a human being as though they're some sort of property."

Booth sighed, brushing his fingers through her soft hair. "Bones, that's not really…"

"Booth, I'm not finished," she cut him off with a half-hearted glare.

He gave her a small smile, "Sorry, go ahead."

She nodded, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "While I don't believe in treating human beings as possessions…I do, however, believe that we are meant to be together at this point," she said, vaguely remembering him saying that the two of them 'belonged together' while they had copulated. "I think that you and I do have something good together. So, while I find the statement 'I belong to you' degrading and incorrect…I will concede to 'I belong with you'."

Booth gazed at her, his expression unreadable to her, his smile and eyes soft. It made her shift uncomfortably where she stood, still wrapped up in his embrace. "What?"

He shook his head, his smile growing larger by the minute. "Nothing, Bones," he assured her. "I'm just…I agree with you."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Mm-hmm," he hummed, leaning down to brush a kiss, or three, against her swollen, reddened, thoroughly kissed mouth. "And sometimes, Bones…Sometimes, you're just…_Adorable_."

She scowled at him playfully. "I am not," she protested.

"Are, too," he teased. Before she had a chance to retort, he had swept her into his arms, one arm around her middle, the other hitched underneath her knees. She gave a startled squeak, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck.

"Booth!" she objected, her laugh huskier than usual due to what had transpired between them just minutes before. "I can't stay tonight - I have to go home in…" her eyes caught sight of his wall clock even as he carried her away from the living room and towards the direction of his bedroom, past the only other bedroom in his house that he'd always kept the door closed. "Less than an hour."

He merely grinned at her cockily, gently tossing her on the bed as he entered his room and crawling on top of her, pressing open-mouthed kisses up her body as he went. "I can work with that," he murmured against her flesh, loving it when he heard her laugh again. _One of my favorite sounds in the world_, he thought happily, finally bringing his lips back to hers for a hot, demanding kiss, determined to start all over again.

* * *

Stay tuned for part 2, and tell me what you think.

Thank you for reading.

Juliet.


	9. The Girl in the Fridge Part 2

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling season 1 Brennan in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this if for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Noah with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Noah and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

* * *

_November 31, 2005._

"It was well reasoned."

"Yeah…It was, um, very scientific," Booth shifted slightly as they walked, uncomfortable. He didn't want to be the one to tell his partner that she wasn't doing a particularly good job up on the stands.

Thankfully for him, and unfortunately for Brennan, they ran into the US attorney and the jury consultant on the case and they decided to inform her of it.

"You didn't listen to a thing I said!" Deaver exclaimed angrily, glaring at Brennan. "You were like Klaatu the robot up there. Would it have killed you to speak English?"

Brennan frowned at her. "I wore blue," she pointed out, gesturing to the outfit Rosalie had helped her picked out. "I looked at the jury."

Booth, glaring at Deaver for the way she had slammed his partner, said, "You know, for a 'people' person, you're a little rude."

"Well, at what point did the facts stop working for you?" Brennan asked her.

"I have no problem with the facts, as long as the jury can understand them," Deaver shot back, looking as though she was about to pop a vein right there in the court halls.

"Well, you're underestimating their intelligence."

Deaver wasn't at all in the mood to argue with the good doctor. "You're underestimating their ability to stay awake," she retorted. "When these S&M perverts walk on this, it'll be on your head."

Brennan watched with undisguised stunned disbelief as Deaver and Levitt walk away. She rounded on Booth, angry. "Can you believe that!" When Booth didn't automatically answer and defend Brennan, shifting uncomfortably where he stood and unable to meet her eyes, she gasped. "What? You agree with her?"

"Uh…Not entirely."

"Not entirely," Brennan repeated. "So that means partly. Well, I was perfectly clear. Didn't you think I was clear?"

"Sometimes," he conceded. "And, um, sometimes you were…A little hard to follow."

She frowned at him. "What are you talking about? When?"

"When you were…Talking," he said lamely, giving up on specifying one point in her speech when she wasn't at all too science-y. "Listen, Bones," he sighed. "I know you care about this case. But I think you should let them see that."

"So, I should perform?" she asked, trying to clarify his meaning.

He nodded once. "Just a little bit," he agreed. "Yeah, I mean…Do you see how I portrayed myself as a no-nonsense, tough guy, cop?"

She blinked at him blankly. "You are a no-nonsense, tough guy cop," she pointed out.

Booth snapped his fingers, like she had just come to some sort of life-altering epiphany. "Exactly!" he said excitedly. "And I think that it wouldn't hurt if the jury saw who you really are."

Brennan frowned, clearly upset with what he'd said though he didn't understand why. "Well, I don't know who you think that is, Booth, because this is who I really am," she said, her voice slightly shaky from the anger and disappointment she was feeling. "Just this." _Was he expecting more of me? What exactly did he expect to see?_

She started to turn away, but Booth grabbed her gently by the wrist, pulling her back to him. "Hey, Bones," he said seriously, his voice soft. "That's not what I mean, okay? And you…You're perfect to me. You know this."

"No, I don't know that," she stated quite bluntly. "And nobody's perfect."

He smiled slightly, stepping closer to her until they were barely an inch apart. "I didn't say you were," he agreed. "Just that you're perfect to me. Listen, Bones…You are this woman - science and facts and logic…But you're also much more than that. You're passion and caring and warmth. I've seen that."

Booth's fingers grazed hers, though he was careful not to initiate any sort of overtly obvious physical contact, since they were smack dab in the middle of the courthouse. "I've felt that," he added in a lower voice, earning him a small smile from her. "Let them catch a glimpse of that. Let them see how passionate you are about your job, about getting justice for Maggie Schilling."

Brennan took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, sure," she agreed finally. "I'll try."

He smiled, the both of them turning sideways to walk back towards the courtroom. A few steps in and Brennan almost ran straight into Michael Stires.

"God, sorry," Brennan muttered, stepping back from him.

"I'm okay, are you?" Michael responded, giving Brennan a smile.

Brennan shrugged. "Sure."

There was an awkward pause for a moment. Booth opened his mouth, wanting to lead Brennan back to the courtroom, when Michael said, "Well, truthfully…This whole thing is pretty awkward. Don't you think?"

Brennan tilted her head to the side, and Booth could see she didn't agree with him. "We're just doing our job. We'll be fine," she answered.

"I saw you up on the stand…You know, if you just-"

Booth cut him off before he could say anything more. "I'm sorry, Dr. Stires, we're not allowed to talk about the case with those working for the defense," he said in his most professional 'I want to kill you' tone of voice.

"I know," Michael said, barely acknowledging Booth, his eyes trained on Brennan. "I'm just saying…"

"I think we should get going, Michael," she gave him a brief, apologetic smile. "The consultant is already freaking out enough without the two of us talking."

"Sure," Michael sighed, stepping aside to let the two of them pass. "Sorry."

Booth placed his hand on the small of Brennan's back. Once they were far enough away from Michael Stires, he let out a low whistle. "Wow, that guy cannot take a hint, huh?" he asked rhetorically.

She didn't have to look at him to know the expression he was wearing on his face. So, looking straight ahead, she said, "Stop looking so smug, Booth. You've won the metaphorical, alpha male competition. Not that there was one to begin with. Stop smiling like that or people are going to know we're sleeping together."

He choked a little before schooling his features into a more neutral one. "Got it, Bones."

BBBBBBB

Bones!" Booth called, racing after her as she stormed away from the courtroom. "The Costello's are trying to cop a plea to a charge that won't mean the death penalty. They know they're going down," he informed her with a happy smile, relieved that they were able to put those two away.

Brennan rounded on him, her eyes flashing dangerously. "You had no right!" she hissed at him angrily. "There are things that are private, Booth."

"Yeah, maybe you're right, but you know what? I had to, okay? This was my case, too, and you weren't getting anywhere with the jury…" he sighed, trailing off. "It's nothing personal, okay, Bones?"

Brennan scoffed, shaking her head as she stared at him. "You know what, Booth?" she snapped, before taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I expected many people to betray me. Michael Stires is most certainly one of them, even if I didn't expect it to be this way…But you. God, you are the one person I thought I could trust wholeheartedly."

"Bones…" he started to say, reaching out to take her by the elbow.

Brennan yanked her arm away from him. "_Don't!_" she growled. "I trusted you, Booth. I told you about how I felt about my parents' disappearance in confidence and you just threw that all away. You know, you made me trust you enough to want to tell you what I have going on in my life but right now…I just don't trust you enough to know that you'll keep that to yourself. I'm sorry, Booth, but I just…I can't do this."

"_Bones_," he said, looking shocked. "Come on…I, look, I was just-"

"I have to go," she said, unable to stop the bitterness from leaking out into her voice. "Just…I need some space."

She turned on her heel, walking away from him and trying her best to blink back the tears pooling in her eyes. It wasn't until she was back in her car, the key in the ignition and the heater on, that she allowed herself a moment to digest the sadness running through her.

She…Well, she couldn't really pinpoint the emotion she felt for Booth. She liked him, certainly, but it was much more than that. She…Held affection for him, she supposed. He was a very important part of her life, but her children were _the most_ important parts of her life.

She had kept their existence a secret except for the chosen few people she knew with certainty would never betray her - Angela, someone whom she had almost ten years worth of friendship with, Dr. Goodman, who had his own children and was a man of principle, and Hodgins and Zack, her team members who had come to learn of her children by working so closely with her for two years.

Brennan had very recently come to terms with the fact that not only was Booth a major part of her life professionally, he was also a major part of her life personally. She'd made plans to tell him - she had informed her children, even sat Zan and Tri down to explain to them as best as she could. They had been a little too young to really understand why Pete stayed over some nights when they had been involved, but now they were older, wise. And if Booth could accept that she was a mother to four, she had planned on inviting him over to her apartment sometimes, as well. She'd planned on making dinner, something meaty since Booth 'couldn't live' without his red meat, but healthy at the same time.

Now, though…

What if she were to tell him about Rosalie, Wyatt, Zan and Demetri and he were to use that against her in court one day? What if she wasn't being as appealing personality-wise and he decided that the best way to remedy that was to bring up her children in front of a hundred virtual strangers? She couldn't risk that. She couldn't risk their safety.

Brennan drove straight to the Jeffersonian, her body working on autopilot since her mind was so occupied with thoughts of Booth and what had occurred back at the courthouse. She was significantly less angry by the time she'd reached her office, but nowhere near close enough to forgive him.

She was much too upset to head straight back home, as well. She had made it a point to never return home when she was in turmoil and not in a mood to deal with people, including her children. She had seen way too many foster parents who had arrived home in a foul mood and though she knew she would never hurt her children, it was just one of those personal vows that she had taken.

Instead, she sank down on her couch and pulled out her phone. Wyatt answered on the third ring. "So?" he demanded, by way of greeting. "Did you win?"

She smiled slightly. Wyatt had always been interested in law enforcement. Every time she went to court, he always wanted to know if she'd managed to 'put the bad guys away for good'. "Yeah, we won," she informed him wearily. "Last I heard the Costello's were trying to plea for no death penalty."

Wyatt snorted, sounding disgusted. "It's so sick what they did," he sighed. "Hey, you okay, mom? You sound…Weird." There was a pause before he said, "Want me to get Rose?"

She laughed softly, knowing that he wasn't all that comfortable with talk on emotions. He usually left that to Brennan and Rosalie. "No, no, I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm just…Tired. I called to let you know that, uh, we won, and that I'll be at the Jeffersonian for a little while."

"Mom," Wyatt said, and he sounded exasperated. "You just went to court. Come home, rest for the day."

"I know, I know," she agreed, nodding though he couldn't see her. "I will come home. I just…Something happened and I need to think for a little bit. I won't be long, I promise."

"Uh-huh," he didn't sound too convinced. "This 'something'…Is it bad?"

She sighed kicking off her shoes and bringing her legs up to rest on the couch, tucking them underneath her. "No," she replied immediately, not wanting to worry him. _But that's a lie_. "I don't know," she corrected. "I just…I'll explain later. At home. I'll be there within the hour, okay?"

"Sure. I'll tell the others," Wyatt promised. "See you later, mom."

"Bye," she hung up, sighing once more and resting her head against the headrest of her couch.

She had fifteen glorious minutes of peace before a knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Booth entering her office, a sheepish, repentant look on his face. "Hey, Bones," he greeted her softly, his voice almost as weary as she felt.

"What is it? I'm not feeling very forgiving, Booth," she warned, keeping her eyes locked to his even as she spoke.

He nodded. "I know…Can you just listen to me, then?"

She stared at him for a long time but slowly nodded her head reluctantly. "Fine."

"Fine," he agreed, moving closer to the couch and sinking down next to her, hoping that the close proximity didn't mean that it was just easier for her to reach out and kill him. "Listen, Bones…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…I panicked, okay? The Costello's were going to walk and I just…I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry."

Brennan drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. "These are things I already know, Booth," she told him. "But I'm just…"

"You can't trust me," he repeated what she'd said to him earlier. At her nod, he looked a little pained by that. "I don't blame you for that…But I'm hoping that if I were to trust you with my secret, the one I hold very dearly to me, that maybe I could earn some of your trust back."

She eyed him warily, but he only smiled. "Come on, Bones," he coaxed, standing up and offering her his hand. "Come with me. I have to show you something."

Brennan bit her lip, considering. She could understand why he'd done what he had done - it was a pretty logical choice that had worked for them in the end - but she just hadn't anticipated him to do that to her. Still, she was willing to give him another chance because he was Booth, her partner, and her chest was aching in hurt. If whatever secret he had that he was going to trust her with was going to help regain her trust, then she was willing to go with him.

Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, Brennan slipped her hand into his and stood up. She slipped her feet back into her heels and allowed him to lead her out of the lab.

They had taken his car, since she'd driven her sports car to court and it wouldn't mess with her schedule in the morning the next day since she drove to work in her SUV most days. She would just have Sylvia pick up her car from the Jeffersonian on Monday when the kids were in school.

He drove her to Wong Foo's, the two of them staying silent the whole drive over. Occasionally, at a red light or waiting for the cars in front of him to move, Booth would look over at Brennan to gauge just how angry she still was at him. He wasn't sure if revealing Parker to her now was going to change things positively or negatively, but it was something he felt that he had to do.

Sid smiled brightly at the two of them, the knowing glint in his eyes telling Booth that his old friend might 'know' what they might be going through. "Come on, I'll show you to your booth," Sid said, leading the two of them towards the same booth that they had sat at the first time he'd seen them with his own two eyes after his vacation.

"A booth?" Brennan furrowed her eyebrows together. "We usually just sit at the bar…"

Booth shook his head. "Trust me on this one, Bones," he assured her. "Thanks, Sid," he nodded to his friend as he and Brennan slid into the booth, sitting opposite each other. "You know what to bring us?"

"Yeah," Sid nodded, walking away. Absolutely nothing, he added silently, knowing the two of them would be out of his restaurant before they'd have the chance to eat anything.

Brennan looked over at Booth confusedly. "Booth, why did you bring me here?" she asked, thoroughly bewildered.

Booth cracked a small smile at her, taking in a deep breath. "Bones, there's something about me that I haven't told you, something important…" he started, trailing off as he thought of how to continue.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "More important than your gambling ways?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Ex-gambling ways, Bones," he corrected her. "I'm not a gambler anymore." _Isn't that what I'm doing right now, though?_ His conscience countered. _I'm gambling a risk, telling her something that could potentially drive her away from me…_

He sighed, shaking his head to clear it. There was no backing out of this, not just because he wanted to regain her trust but because they had been together, seriously, for three months now. He felt for her more than he'd felt for any other woman he'd been with. She needed to know.

"And yea, this is more important than that," he agreed. "Five years ago, when I'd just moved here to DC, I met a woman. Her name is Rebecca…We fell for each other pretty quickly. I thought that she was…I thought she and I were meant to be together."

He lifted his head, looking into her eyes to assure her that she had nothing to worry about. He didn't detect any jealousy in her expression, though, just curiosity, some slight concern and suspicion. "I know better now," he said. "But five years ago, just seven months into our relationship, Rebecca and I found out something very important."

She raised her eyebrow but didn't comment, letting him continue.

Booth took in a deep breath and blurted out, "She was pregnant."

He waited a few seconds, wanting to give Brennan a chance to say something. But she didn't. Her jaw had dropped and her eyes were wide, but she didn't say a single thing. He hastily rushed forward, trying to explain himself better, "Becca and I split up before the baby was even born, and she didn't really allow me much time with our son when he was born…That first year, I couldn't see him unless Becca was around. I guess she never really trusted me with him. But as he grew older, she gave me more time with him."

Booth bit his lip and looked at her. "Bones," he urged, after a few minutes of silence. "Say something."

Brennan took a few moments to take it all in. She had been so worried about telling Booth that she had children, worried that this was going to mess up with his 'bachelor's lifestyle' since she knew some men weren't all that receptive to it, especially since she didn't have just one but four children…She hadn't factored in the fact that he had his own child. He was five years older than her, already thirty-three years old, but it wasn't that uncommon for men to be confirmed bachelors, with not even one child, even at thirty-three.

She took in a deep breath. This could go two ways - he could be understanding of her own situation with the twins and the two little ones, or he could be too overwhelmed, having already had a child of his own. She had to admit, even if she wouldn't give her angels up for anything, that having four kids could be taxing.

As for her accepting his 'secret'…Well, how could she say she didn't understand it when she herself had been getting enough courage to tell him and gain _his_ understanding? Besides, the way he was with people…All warm and caring…The way he was with _her_…It led her to believe that Booth would probably be a good father.

"Bones?" Booth prompted again, worry etched on his face, his brows furrowed.

Brennan blinked a few times, realizing that she had become so absorbed in her thoughts that had zoned out. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth, Booth looking even more wary at that even if he had coaxed her to say something. "So, you're saying you have a-"

"Daddy!" someone shouted, interrupting her. It was a sweet voice, tiny and obviously belonging to someone young.

They both looked up and Booth slid from his side of the booth, just in time for a mass of blonde, three feet give or take a few inches, to come barreling into his legs. Booth chuckled, bending down to scoop the little boy in his arms. "Hey, Parker!" he greeted the boy in an animated voice.

Parker grinned cutely at her partner, and Brennan felt her shock melting into a soft smile as she watched them. It was so clear that the little boy shared in his father's charms, if that smile was anything to go by. It was also clear the obvious love the two shared for each other.

"Daddy, guess what?" Parker asked his father, voice excited as he launched into explanation without giving Booth a chance to reply. "At school, Ms. Tandy said that we could have chocwates if we were good and help keen, and I was good, daddy, so I got twee chocwates but I felt bad 'cuz Billy onwe got one so I shared mine and now Billy gots two and I gots two!"

Brennan watched as Booth adopted an appropriately surprised expression. "You did!" he said, and even though he feigned shock, Brennan could detect frank pride of his son in his tone.

Parker nodded, seeming to take this question very seriously. "Yes, I did," he confirmed, still nodding furiously. "Ask mommy - Ms. Tandy wote me a nice note."

Just then, a tall woman, almost as tall as Brennan, came rushing in. She was blonde, and shared a few of the zygomatic features as Parker, though it was obvious that the little boy took after his father the most, even from her awkward angle of view. "Hey," she greeted Booth breathlessly. "Sorry I'm late. My meeting ran late."

Booth shrugged. "Not a problem," he assured her. "Thanks for letting me have him a few hours early, Becca," he grinned at her.

The blonde woman, Rebecca, merely nodded. "Yeah, sure," she said, lifting a small Spiderman printed red and blue bag and handing it to Booth. "Just…Have him back by seven on Sunday, okay?"

Booth nodded, the smile on his face slipping slightly. "Yeah."

Rebecca was about to turn around, to leave the restaurant, when her eyes caught sight of Brennan, sitting at the booth with her eyes trained on the three of them. Rebecca felt a small pang of jealousy - she and Booth were long over, and she was glad, since she just didn't think they were right for one another. Besides, now she had Brent and she was happy about that. But it didn't mean that she'd forgotten what a good man Booth was and didn't suffer from small bouts of envy every now and then.

She turned back around to face Booth - in all the four years that Parker had been alive, Booth had never once introduced him to any of his girlfriends in the past. Now, all of a sudden…It was even more complicated, too. Rebecca remembered the headache that had ensued once Booth told her about his situation involving his partner, and the personal relationship they shared they weren't allowed to reveal to anyone else.

"Seeley, are you sure about this?" she asked Booth in a low voice, her face angled away from Brennan in hopes that she wouldn't be able to read lips or anything. _Seeley did say she was some sort of a genius_, she remembered. "I mean…She's not going to…I don't know, hurt him or something, is she?"

Booth glared at his ex. "Jeez, Becks," he growled unhappily. "Do you really think I'd be introducing my son to her if she would? I trust her, Becks. She's fine."

Rebecca eyed him, still a little reluctant, and Booth raised an eyebrow incredulously. "Look, you've introduced him to, what, three boyfriends already? I'm saying she's special. Go with me on this one," he urged, his voice taking on a pleading tone.

Rebecca nodded, sighing. "Alright, I've got to go - I'm running late for my date with Brent," she said, checking her watch hurriedly. "Bye, baby, be good for daddy," he instructed Parker, kissing him once on the forehead before turning on her heels and walking quickly to the exit.

"Bye, mommy!" Parker called out enthusiastically after her. His attention was diverted back to Booth even before Rebecca's blonde hair had disappeared from view. "Daddy, can we go to da zoo? Tommy went to da zoo with his daddy, and he saw a baby ephenant."

"An elephant!" Booth feigned exaggerated excitement once more, this time subtly correcting his son.

Parker nodded, trying to sound out the right word. "Yeah, an ephelant," he said. He was beaming so proudly, though, that Booth didn't have the heart to correct him again.

"Well, sure, bub, we'll go tomorrow," he promised, causing Parker to cheer in happy victory, glad that he'd been able to convince his father without having to dole out much of the 'Booth charm'. "But, listen, daddy brought a friend that he wants you to meet. Is that okay?"

Parker bit his lip, suddenly a little more reserved than before. Noticing Parker's shyness, Booth smiled reassuringly at him, running his hand soothingly down Parker's back. "She's really nice," he promised. "And very smart. I think you'll like her."

Slowly, Parker nodded his head, though he kept biting his lower lip in a show of nervousness. Booth pressed a quick kiss to his son's forehead before turning around to head back to the table, walking the few feet and sliding back into the booth, opposite Brennan. Parker had taken to wrapping his arms around Booth's neck and hiding his face in his father's neck.

"Sorry I took so long," Booth apologized to Brennan, noticing the curious look in her eyes.

Brennan shook her head, smiling. "It's not a problem," she assured him. She had seen Rebecca's less than pleased expression when she'd seen her - it hadn't taken her genius brain to figure out that she was wary and slightly envious. She'd had to admit, if Wes or Christian were to introduce one of their girlfriends to her kids, she'd probably react the same way, too. She didn't begrudge the blonde woman her concern over her own son.

Booth nudged Parker gently and begun to speak. "Parker, you remember daddy telling you he's working with a really smart lady?" he asked, trying to jog the boy's memory. He caught Brennan's surprised look but didn't explain it to her, choosing to wait to explain it all in one go later on.

Parker lifted his head slowly to look at Booth, wrinkling his nose slightly in concentration. "Bones?" he guessed, remembering the funny name of his daddy's partner.

Booth nodded while Brennan glared at Booth, glad that Parker couldn't see her yet. "Bones!" she mouthed, scowling at Booth.

He merely grinned at her, not even the least bit repentant, before his gaze fell back onto his son. "Yeah, bub, Bones," he chuckled, noticing that his girlfriend's scowl had deepened. "She's here, and I want you to meet her."

Suddenly Parker was no longer shy, no longer worried. What Booth had told him - about how 'Bones' knew all about someone just by looking at their bones, like magic, and how she knew about dinosaurs too, 'cuz dinosaurs had bones, and that she worked at a museum but helped his daddy catch all the bad guys - sounded so cool.

"Weally?" he squeaked.

Booth laughed, nodding. "Yeah," he agreed. "She's right there. Wanna meet her?"

Parker nodded excitedly, turning his head and angling his body so that his back was to Booth's front, the both of them looking across the table at Brennan.

Brennan, whose scowl had disappeared as she'd continued watching the father-son exchange, wore a mildly surprised expression when she caught sight of Parker, fully, for the first time. She noticed, a smile involuntarily spreading across her lips, that Parker had inherited Booth's warm chocolate-colored eyes. She noted in satisfaction that she had been right in her initial observation that Parker shared the most physical genetic traits with Booth - he was giving her his own version of a charm smile, his brown eyes twinkling just like his father's, both of them wearing identical expressions of happiness as they gazed at her.

"Bones," Booth said, making the official introductions. "This is my son, Parker. Parker, I'd like you to meet Bones."

Brennan smiled warmly at the little boy. "Hi, Parker," she greeted him.

"Hi," Parker greeted her back, a little of his previous shyness creeping back in. He turned his head slightly to look at his father. "Daddy, she doesn't look like bones," he said in a mock whisper loud enough for the whole table to hear, the way that children would do. "She's pwetty."

Brennan blushed slightly at this, and laughed a throaty laugh. Booth chuckled, too. "Yeah, she is, isn't she?" he said, placing his chin gently on the top of Parker's head and gazing adoringly at Brennan across the table.

Parker turned back to face Brennan, eyeing her curiously. "Bones, is that weally your weal name?"

Brennan shook her head, smiling. "No, it's not," she answered. "It's a nickname."

"Nickname?"

"Yes, like when your dad called you 'bub' just now," she explained, her sharp ears having picked up on that.

"Oh…" Parker nodded his head in understanding, his eyes wide. "So what's your weal name?"

"It's 'Temperance'."

Parker's eyebrows drew together and he tried sounding out the name. "Tewance," was the closest he got to it.

Brennan cringed slightly but was unable to stop herself from smiling - Parker Booth was one very adorable child. "Tell you what," she said, leaning in slightly across the table, lowering her voice as though she was about to divulge a secret to Parker. "How about you call me 'Bones', like your dad, huh? It'll be our special thing."

Parker's eyes lit up and he beamed at her happily. "Okay!" he agreed instantly. "I can do dat."

Brennan gazed at the little boy with unconcealed adoration, before chuckling, shaking her head, straightening up. Booth noticed the amused expression in her eyes, mixed with something he couldn't quite place his finger on. "What?" he asked, chuckling slightly since it was infectious whenever she smiled. "What?" he asked again when she didn't reply.

Brennan simply looked at him with smiling eyes and a smiling mouth. "You beat me," she said, shrugging.

"What?"

Brennan pursed her lips before looking at Parker once more. "You know what? Why don't we go back to my house instead?" she suggested to the little boy. "I've got chocolate cake for dessert…"

At that temptation, Parker sucked in a deep breath, eyes growing round. "_Chokate cake!_" he squeaked out happily before turning to unleash the puppy dog eyes he'd inherited from Booth, turning the tables around on his father. "Daddy, can we go? Pease, can we go, daddy? Pease!"

Booth shook his head at his son's enthusiasm. "Are you sure, Bones?" he asked her, concerned. "I mean…I'm sure you have like a gazillion priceless artifacts at home and he tends to get a little hyper when he gets chocolate."

Brennan smirked. "I don't have that many artifacts," she assured him. She tended to keep her apartment more or less artifact-free, since Zan and Tri were hyper all the time. "And the ones I do are in a locked glass cabinet. He won't be able to get to any of them. I'm sure, Booth. Come on."

He considered for only one more second before standing up, letting Parker's feet hit the floor and taking his hand, the two following Brennan towards the restaurant's exit.

"Bye, guys!" Sid called out.

Booth turned to look at his old friend, seeing that Sid was simply standing behind the bar, hands on either side of him, not at all looking displeased that they were leaving without eating anything. _You sly dog_, Booth chuckled inwardly, waving at his friend. He was beginning to think that Sid wasn't just a mind-reader, but a psychic, too.

"Daddy, my feets hurt," Parker complained. "Carry me."

Brennan spoke up before Booth could. "Could I carry you, Parker?" she asked, wide blue eyes alternating between father and son.

"Bones, he's not really tired," Booth warned her in a low voice. "You don't have to…"

"I want to," she insisted.

Parker, his timidity regarding Brennan completely gone, was less hesitant than his father. "Carry me, Bones!" he said dramatically, flinging his arms out for her to grab him.

She chuckled, scooping him easily into her arms. He was a tiny boy, just slightly smaller than her Zan, and she had no trouble whatsoever holding him. "Wow, you're a pretty big boy, Parker," she teased, buckling her knees on purpose. "What've you been eating? Rocks?"

Parker giggled. "No, silly Bones," he shook his head in that exasperated manner kids get sometimes whenever they thought adults were being ridiculous. "I eats me spinach!" he blurted out before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

Booth, who had been expecting her to say 'I don't know what that means', was surprised when she suddenly said, "I'm Popeye-"

Parker joined in, singing along, "-the sailor man!" the two of them crooned, giggling together.

Booth shook his head, shocked beyond belief, as Parker, cuddled in Brennan's arms, started asking questions about dinosaur bones and she answered them without the complexity of science that would've had even _his_ head spinning in confusion.

Once he'd fixed the car seat in the backseat of his SUV, Brennan stepped forward and bent halfway inside the SUV, strapping Parker in. "I can show you more about dinosaurs once we get to my apartment," she was promising Parker as she did the multiple seatbelts on his car seat for him. The little boy, who absolutely detested his car seat and would normally whine and complain, sat still and listened to her raptly. "I have all these books on them - you'd love the T-Rex, I'm sure, and we can watch Land Before Time, if you want."

Parker gasped. "You have Land Before Time?" he squeaked out. "I love that movies, Bones!"

She grinned, ruffling his hair affectionately as she finished, closing the door and slipping into the passenger's seat. Booth was already in the driver's seat, staring at her strangely. And although she knew just why he was looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time, she hid her smile and said, "What?"

He shook his head, starting the engine. "Nothing," he muttered. "Nothing at all."

She buckled her own seatbelt as he begun to back out of his parking space. He saw her pull out her cell phone. "Who are you calling?" he asked her.

"Rosalie," she answered immediately. "I need to tell her you're coming over - she'll never forgive me if anyone saw her when she's not, in her words, 'as beautiful as she can possibly be'."

Brennan rolled her eyes. She had no idea where Rosalie's vanity had come from, but it was well-placed, of course. Rose was an incredibly beautiful girl, easily surpassing any other thirteen year old girl Brennan had ever come across, including herself at that age. God, she had been sort of awkward at thirteen, but Rose looked like one of those teen models.

Booth shot her a confused expression. "You want your roommate to dress up for me?" he asked incredulously. At her confirming nod, he reeled his head back, completely bewildered. "_Why!_"

She merely grinned at him. "You'll see," she sing-sang. The ringing ceased as someone picked up the phone on the other end. "Hello?"

"Mom, hey," Wyatt's voice responded. "Where are you? On your way home?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way home," she confirmed. "Listen, I'm with Booth - he'd coming over. Can you please pass the phone to Rosalie?"

Wyatt chuckled. "Are you far away from here?" he asked.

She could hear him walking, probably to find his sister. "Not really," she cringed.

Wyatt laughed louder. "She's gonna freak," he warned his mother. She heard a knocking sound and Rosalie's annoyed voice snapping at Wyatt for interrupting her 'alone time'. "Well, have you're alone time later," she heard Wyatt reply, snapping back. "Mom's on the phone for you."

Rosalie snatched the phone from her twin, not bothering to thank him as she slammed the door in his face. He was strangely irritating to her today. "Mom?" she spoke into the phone.

"Hey, Rose," Brennan grinned at the sound of her voice - for some reason, Rose had a very musical voice. It was always nice to hear her voice. "Listen, don't freak out, but I, uh, I'm bringing Booth to our apartment right now…We're about twenty minutes away-"

"_Twenty minutes!_" Rosalie shrieked, running over to her vanity set to gaze in dismay at her reflection. She looked significantly better than most girls, she knew that, even in a pair of Juicy Couture velour tracksuit and hoodie, but this was still not how she wanted to meet her mother's partner slash secret boyfriend for the very first time. First impressions were important and no way in hell was anyone going to meet her for the first time while her hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail and she wore what could pass for pajamas.

"Mom, how could you!" she accused, dashing towards her closet to find something that said 'I'm Temperance Brennan's progeny, nice to meet you but don't screw with me'.

Brennan sighed. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I couldn't have told you earlier, Rose, I didn't even know I was bringing him with me until a few minutes ago. Don't worry, you're beautiful always."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Mother, you're my mom," she said in a tone that suggested she was disgusted Brennan would even use that line on her. "You have to say that. Stop patronizing me."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Okay, Rose," she said dryly. "Look, just don't…Go overboard. He won't care even if you wear sweats."

Rosalie gasped as though Brennan had offended her in the worst possible way. "Mother!"

"Bye, Rose, see you in…About fifteen minutes," she said, just to freak her out further. True to form, Rosalie shrieked, panicking. Brennan laughed, ending the call.

"Is everything okay?" Booth asked, wearing a confused smile.

Brennan nodded. "Ah, that's just Rose," she assured him. "She's a little vain sometimes, but you know, it's fine. She's good. She's okay with you coming over."

"Who answered the phone?"

She winced slightly. Of course he'd pick up on that. Choosing to tell the truth - well, the partial truth - she said, "That'd be Wyatt, Rosalie's brother."

Booth wanted to ask more but Brennan had turned to Parker, who was looking bored in the backseat, and asked him what else, besides dinosaurs, that he liked. When they reached her apartment building, Brennan directed him into the underground parking lot for the first time, letting her use the one of the two spots she'd bought for her cars. He could use the one next to her hybrid since her other car was still at the Jeffersonian.

Parker chose to ride piggyback on Booth's back this time, as Brennan led the two of them towards the elevator at the basement parking lot. They stepped inside, and Brennan pressed the button for the fourteenth floor. They stayed in silence the whole time the elevator rode up, though Booth could tell she was growing steadily more and more worried as time passed.

"You okay, Bones?" he asked finally, when they passed the ninth floor.

She nodded. "Yeah," she said unconvincingly. "Yes, I'm fine, it's just…" she sighed, looking a little wearier than she had moments ago in his car, chatting to Parker about his love of dogs and how his mother wouldn't let him get one because she was allergic and how she had three dogs he might like to play with once they get to her apartment.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. The two of them stepped out, Parker still wrapped around Booth's back. She stopped him after only a few steps away from the elevator. "Listen, Booth…" she trailed off, sighing once more. "My secret…It's pretty big. It's my whole life. And I just…You're the person I'm most anxious about to share it with, but if you can't handle it…If it's too much for you…I understand."

She gave him a small smile. "I would be sad, but I'll understand if you can't be with me anymore. I hope, no matter what, we can still be partners but…"

"Whoa, whoa," Booth cut her off, a worried expression on his face. "You're starting to worry me here. What's so big about your secret? I'd have thought having a kid was the biggest one anyone could have," he tried to joke.

Brennan laughed humorlessly. "Just…Promise me you won't say anything until the end of the night? Promise me you won't freak out until it's just the two of us, okay?" she seemed anxious for his reply, so he nodded quickly.

"Yeah, sure, Bones," he assured her in a soft voice. "I promise."

She nodded, exhaling in relief, touching his arm and leading him towards the door labeled '14C', keys in hand.

Parker, who had slid down Booth's back and was now holding his hand, looked up excitedly at Brennan. "Are we meeting the doggies?" he asked her innocently.

Brennan nodded. "Yes, we are," she agreed. He seemed to bounce on the spot eagerly. She laughed fondly at him. "But we're also going to be meeting some people that are very important to me."

Parker stopped bouncing on his toes, looking nervous again all of a sudden. "Are dey nice, Bones?"

She nodded seriously. "Yes, they are. They're very nice and I'll bet they'll love you," she assured him.

"Weally?"

"Yes, you're a very charming boy," she grinned at him, the little boy returning her smile.

"Daddy, I'm chawmin," Parker told his father.

Booth chuckled. "Yeah, I heard, bub."

Brennan took another calming breath before sliding in her key inside the keyhole, turning it and opening the door. Stepping inside, she widened the door to let the two Booth boys to enter.

The first thing that registered when Booth stepped into Brennan's apartment for the first time was that it was loud. He could hear something, most definitely something on TV, that sounded like cartoons, completed with funny noises and voices.

The second thing that registered in his mind was that her apartment was enormous. It made his little apartment looked like a cramped tent being compared to a large, beautiful cabin.

He couldn't see into the living room or anything, since the walls of the foyer blocked his view, so he took his time to observe what he could as Brennan closed the door and started to remove her shoes and jacket, urging him and Parker to do the same.

The walls of her foyer were painted a light cream color, an eclectic rock-like table nearby. He could see the stairs, painted the same color as the walls, except for the top of the railing, which was painted a deep tan color, and the steps themselves which were wooden. The floor was wooden, a dark mahogany color, and uncarpeted. He could see a door that obviously led to a coat closet, and an open door just inches away that led to what looked like an office.

"Booth, your coat?" Brennan prompted, raising an eyebrow. He looked towards her, his gaze snapping away from his observations, to see that both she and Parker had kicked off their shoes and that her coat and Parker's little jacket were both in her hands.

"Oh," he said, smiling sheepishly, and quickly unsnapping his coat buttons and shrugging it off, handing it to her.

Brennan smiled, the way her eyes flickered over his body belying the desire hidden beneath her innocent smile. "Thanks," she said, moving towards the coat closet. Booth kicked off his shoes, putting them next to Parker's and Brennan's, all three pairs right next to the white and brown wooden shoe cabinet.

She moved to the coat closet, opened it and hung up all three of their jackets on hangers. Closing the door, she gestured for Booth and Parker to follow her. "Hey, I'm home," she called out.

Immediately, a golden-furred retriever came dashing in towards her, stopping her in the entryway of the foyer leading to the living room, barking and grinning that dog smile at her.

"Hi, Sammy," she laughed, patting Sammy's head. Turning, she addressed Parker. "Parker, do you want to say hello?"

Parker seemed a little intimidated by Sammy, but Brennan held out her hand. "Come on, he's really friendly," she encouraged.

With a nudge from his dad, Parker stepped shyly towards Brennan. Sammy eyed Parker, giving him a curious whiff. Apparently liking what he smelled, Sammy barked again and licked Parker on the side of his face.

Parker giggled. "Ew, doggy!" he complained, though he had a huge smile on his lips, his small hands reaching out to pet and stroke at Sammy's fur.

"Parker, meet Sammy," Brennan introduced. "He belongs to Wyatt."

Parker gave Brennan a confused look. "Who's Wyatt?"

Before she could answer, Booth could hear footsteps descending down the stairs, and much less graceful footsteps clomping towards their direction from where Sammy had come from.

"Mommy!" someone squealed, shocking the hell out of Booth when a little boy the same age as Parker came dashing into their line of sight. Brennan smiled widely, opening her arms wide for the little boy to jump into. He didn't disappoint, colliding into her hard enough for her to rock back into her heels. She didn't mind, chuckling away as she hugged him tightly, pressing kisses into his hair. "Mommy, you're back!"

Brennan laughed, just as whomever was at the stairs reached them. "Mom, are you gonna introduce us?" Booth heard, turning around to see the beautiful face of a girl who looked to be thirteen, maybe fourteen years old.

Brennan stood up, Zan still hanging onto her neck, carrying him in her arms. "Booth," she said to her partner, who looked a little pale. "This is Alexander, but we call him Zan," she smiled softly at the little boy in her arms.

Booth took him in. Zan was a beautiful boy, with a much more exotic look than Brennan. He had inky black hair, sticking up messily in different directions. His eyes were a vivid, light chocolate brown color, sparkling merrily. As he beamed right back at his mother - God, she was a mother! Who knew! - Booth could see that he'd inherited the crooked smile Booth loved so much on Brennan.

Zan's eyes flickered to Booth for a moment, and he waved shyly, before his eyes were diverted to Parker. Curiosity took hold of him and he wriggled in Brennan's arms, wanting to get down.

She bent and placed him on his feet before straightening up, going over to Rosalie. She placed her arm around Rose's waist. "And _this_ is Rosalie," she said. "She's my daughter."

Mother and daughter locked eyes, sharing a sweet, soft smile, before Rosalie turned her head to eye Booth with stunningly vivid cobalt blue eyes, the intensity in them as strong as Brennan's when she was analyzing something, be it bones or people.

Booth could definitely agree with Brennan when she'd told Rose she was beautiful on the phone earlier - she was one of those girls, Booth reckoned, who had all the boys drooling after her and all the girls envious. She had dark golden caramel hair, styled in natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes - a color he had never seen on anyone before - flawless porcelain skin and perfect angular features that made him feel like he was either looking at a sculpture masterpiece or at a teen model.

She had changed out of her Juicy Couture outfit, and had opted for a sleeveless red turtleneck sweater and a pair of figure-hugging True Religion jeans. She knew she looked good in her outfit - red always made her porcelain skin and stunning blue eyes pop out even more.

"Hello," Rosalie greeted him, her voice firm and confident, a musical quality to it. "I'm Rosalie." She had the attitude of someone who was beautiful and knew it.

Booth smiled at her amiably. "I'm Booth," he greeted her back, offering his hand for her to shake.

That seemed to be something right to do, since Rosalie shook his hand, a small smile curling at the edge of her lips though it disappeared before he could really tell. Her eyes were lit up, though, slightly less guarded, so he figured he hadn't completely blown it. "At least he doesn't pinch my cheeks or something," she commented to her mother, shaking Booth's hand briefly, firmly.

Brennan grinned at her daughter before turning to Booth. "Don't be taken aback - Rose is like this to everyone," she assured him.

He chuckled, remembering the crazy moods and attitudes of the thirteen year old girls he had been around when he was that age. "Don't worry about it," he waved her concern away. "We're good," he turned his eyes back to Rosalie as he said this, and even though her expression remained impassive, her eyes smiled right back at him.

"So you have two kids, huh?" Booth said to Brennan.

Rose snorted. "_Ha!_ Two, right," she rolled her eyes.

Booth's eyebrows furrowed together, opening his mouth to ask, before Parker's and Zan's conversation interrupted them.

"I'm Zan," Zan was saying, beaming at Parker.

Parker smiled back, taken with the little boy's charm. "I'm Parker," he introduced himself. "Is Bones your mommy?"

"Bones?" Parker pointed to Brennan, and Zan nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's my mommy."

Parker nodded, as though this was interesting information. "Oh. Is Sammy your doggy?"

Zan shook his head, eyes wide. "No, Sammy's too big for me to walk," he said. "Me and Tri share Shark Bait. This is Wyatt's doggy."

Brennan's earlier words in the car came back to him.

'_Who answered the phone?'_

'_That'd be Wyatt, Rosalie's brother.'_

Rosalie, who had been watching Booth, smirked. "Better get him to a seat, mom," she teased. "Looks like he's about to fall over."

Brennan shot Rosalie a look, before grabbing Booth's hand. "Come on, guys," she said to Zan and Parker. "Let's go into the living room."

Booth let Brennan lead him by the hand, following her blindly. His eyes took in everything as they passed, though he wasn't so sure his mind registered anything much.

They walked through the arched doorway, passing a hallway entry. It was simple, the walls painted a darker shade of cream, with various pictures he didn't quite see (though they were obviously of people) hanging all over the wall. There was a small rectangular table resting right below the pictures, a wooden chair on either side of the it, two table lamps and a phone resting neatly on top if it, along with some leafy decoration. The hallway looked much more open than it was due to the floor to ceiling windows with white frames styled like doors.

They passed through another arched entryway and made it into the living room. He wasn't sure what Brennan had wished to accomplish by bringing him in there because he was anything but calm at the sight of it.

Her living room was huge. There were a lot of windows, he noticed, that lined up pretty much the entire north wall, and since they were pretty high up, the view was mostly of lush leaves of tall trees planted outside. The walls were painted a light tan color, warm and inviting.

To the left of him was a mini kids area, with a small blue couch, a small kids table with two chairs, light blue curtains and a small blue velvet ottoman. A large toy train track was laid out on the floor just inches from the ottoman. Just a foot away from the couch and ottoman, to their left, were two swinging wicker chairs, hanging from the ceiling. Sammy, who had trotted in after Booth, Brennan, Rose and Zan, immediately dashed for one of the wicker chairs, curling up in the fluffy, stuffed cushion in it. Next to the kids' table were two large wicker boxes propped up against the wall, almost as tall as Parker himself. The wicker box on the right had a blue sign with the word 'Zan' on it glued to its front. The one on the left had a sign with the word 'Tri' glued to its front.

A few feet away from the kids' corner, was a baby grand piano, facing towards yet another window, music sheets propped on it. Next to the baby grand piano, where a large picture of the ocean hung on an extended section of the wall (with no windows), was where the couch was. Brennan led Booth by the hand towards the blue velvet-looking couch, letting his eyes rove over the rest of the living room. There was a fluffy white colored shag rug underneath the coffee table just a foot away from the couch, and there were white recliners on either side of the roaring fireplace.

The extended section of the wall partially hid from view the small work desk at the end of the long, spacious living room, a computer on the table, and two swivel chairs neatly placed on opposite sides of the desk. Reaching the end of the living room, a large, brown-framed decorative mirror hung on the tan wall, a tall but thin black round table a few inches away.

The entire living room was carpeted, plain black colored carpet that contrasted nicely with the tan walls nailed to the floor, except for the fluffy shag rug that spread out from underneath the living room coffee table, and the blue and green striped rug placed underneath the furniture at the kids' corner.

Opposite all of this, right in front of the couch, was a modest-sized TV sitting in the middle of an entertainment unit. On the right side of the unit was a heavy, six feet glass and wood case, filled with trinkets and antiquities. On the left side of the unit was a large black and silver polished music CD floor rack, mostly filled.

"Wow," Booth said to Brennan, his gaze finally returning to his.

She smiled, "Do you want anything? A glass of water? Coffee?"

"Tequila?" Rosalie joked.

Booth barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "No, no…Just an explanation," he said.

Brennan sighed. "I'll explain more later, when it's just the two of us," she added when she saw him about to protest, reminding him of his earlier promise. Booth nodded his head then, reluctantly. "But you should know that Zan and Rose aren't my only children. There's Wyatt, Rosalie's twin brother, and there's Demetri, who's a year younger than Zan."

Booth's eyes bulged out of his sockets. "Wow…" he repeated on a whisper. "Four kids…I guess your secret just hit mine out of the ballpark."

Brennan's eyebrows furrowed together. "What? I don't know…"

Rosalie cut her off. "Four trumps one," she said to Brennan. "Listen, Wyatt's coming down in a bit - he's IM-ing Abby upstairs, and Tri's running around here somewhere with Shark Bait…Is he gonna be okay to meet 'em?" Rose nodded in Booth's direction. One thing about Rosalie - she was extremely protective of her family.

Booth answered for himself. "I'm fine," he assured a skeptical Rose. "Really. It was just a shock…I mean, Bones…I just had no idea."

Brennan and Rosalie shared a smirk. "Rose, go drag Wyatt out of his room," Brennan ordered with a roll of her eyes. "That boy will never stop talking to Abby if it's up to him."

Rosalie nodded and turned without a word, moving gracefully towards the entryway as though she was a supermodel on a catwalk.

Brennan looked at Parker and Zan, both watching some TV next to her on the couch. She grabbed the remote, lowering the volume to catch their attention. "Zan, why don't you show Parker your toys?" she asked, nodding towards the kid's area.

Zan's eyes lit up and he nodded, climbing off the couch. "C'mon, Parker!" he urged his new friend, who followed his lead. "Le-go play with my twain!" Parker seemed enthusiastic enough, the two of them screaming at the top of their lungs as they approached the train set.

Brennan sighed and looked at Booth, the both of them reclining back against the couch, their bodies angling towards each other. Booth gave her a weak smile. "So, four kids, huh?"

She nodded, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth and chewing on it nervously. "Yes," she flickered her eyes to his for a moment before averting them. "At first I didn't tell you because I didn't trust you with this."

Seeing his hurt look, she quickly added, "Just at the very start…I mean, you have to understand. You weren't sure if you wanted to tell me about Parker, either, right?"

At this, he nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I guess I understand," he sighed.

She nodded in approval of his words. "Then, time went on and we were together and I was just…Worried you wouldn't want to be with me anymore if you found out," she shrugged.

The way she couldn't meet his eyes told him that she still thought that.

Reaching out, he placed his thumb and forefinger underneath her chin and lifted her head gently. Their eyes locked on one another, he gave her a small smile. "This is shocking," he agreed, seeing the emotions warring in her eyes. "But, listen, Bones…What you and I have…It's special. So we both have a past. It doesn't mean it has to affect our future."

"But it does, Booth," she argued. "What you did today…At the courthouse…"

His face fell at the reminder. "Bones…"

She shook her head, holding out a hand to stop him. "Booth, that can't happen with my kids," she told him seriously. "My past as a foster child could be found out from my file or from interviews I'd done before. But my children…There's a reason I keep them secret to almost everyone, Booth. My job is dangerous. I make a lot of enemies. Their safety comes first. You can't…That can't happen with them."

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," he soothed, apologizing yet again, one arm reaching out to drape across her thighs and his other hand brushing back her hair from her face. "I know what I did was wrong. But I would never do that, not when it's something like this…I know how important it is to want to keep your kid safe, Bones. I have Parker. I understand."

She smiled at him, weak relief showing through.

He gazed at her for a moment as her eyes drifted from him to somewhere behind him. From the sounds of childish, innocent laughter, he could only assume that she was watching Zan and Parker play. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"If you were so angry with me…"

"I was," she interrupted.

He chuckled wryly. "Why did you bring me here? You said, at the courthouse, you weren't sure you could trust me with your secret…" he trailed off, looking less than happy with the memory.

She nodded. "I wasn't," she agreed. "But then you introduced me to Parker." Her smile grew soft as she reached out, caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers. "I see the love you have for him, Booth. You're a good father, and you're a good man. If you trusted me enough with him…I trust you enough with them."

The fingers that had been brushing through her hair fisted them gently instead, drawing her close. "You know, you're really something, Bones," he told her, the words whispered into her mouth.

"Is that a good thing?" she asked, both their eyes wide open even as their lips rested against each other.

He smiled against her lips. "Yeah, definitely a good thing," he murmured, slanting his lips against hers more firmly, his eyes drifting shut a moment after hers did. It was easy to forget, tangled in her arms, with her his mouth sucking on her sweet lips, her scent enveloping him into a state of near dizziness, that they had just gone through what had to be the most bizarre, the most exhausting day known to man.

"Whoa!" they heard someone said, and pulled apart quickly. "Heave make-out on the couch!"

Booth turned towards the direction of the voice to see four people approaching them. He only recognized one - Rosalie. Next to him was a boy, the same age as her so he assumed he was Wyatt, the twin brother. He was as handsome as his sister was beautiful, with dark auburn hair styled in a shaggy flop, dark emerald eyes that made you blink twice and chiseled features. He was lean, dressed in a pair of jeans that were far too tight and too low - typical teenager - and a long-sleeved 'Capitals' t-shirt. He wore a crooked smile that Booth had seen on Zan and become familiar with on Brennan.

Behind the two of them was a woman, probably in her early forties, wearing a baggy blue button-down and sweatpants. She looked a little flushed but was smiling at Brennan nonetheless. She was carrying a boy (_Tri_, Booth realized, _Zan's younger-by-a-year little brother_) on her hip. He, too, was exotic-looking, sharing many similar physical traits with his brother - dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes. Unlike Zan, however, he looked a lot more like Brennan, with the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose…He had tanner skin than her, though, just like Zan.

"Mommy!" the little boy, Tri, cried out when he saw her, wriggling to get down from the other woman's arms.

Brennan scowled at Wyatt as she stood up. "Wyatt, seriously," she chided, walking over to the woman to grab Demetri from her. Demetri smelled cleaner than he would before a bath after a whole day, and his hair was still very slightly damp. "Sylvia, did you give him a bath?"

Sylvia nodded, smiling fondly at Tri. "Yes, Dr. Brennan," she answered immediately. "Demetri tried giving Shark Bait a bath…It got messy and I thought I should just give him a bath now, save you the trouble later."

Brennan smiled at her. "Thanks, Sylvia," she said courteously. "Would you wait for a while? I have your check for the month in my desk drawer."

Sylvia nodded, seeming abashed but happy at the same time. Brennan hitched Tri higher on her hip as he started to slip, walking with him over to the desk she had in the living room. "Did you try giving Shark Bait a bath?" she asked him, opening up one of the two desk drawers to pull out an envelope with the check she had written.

Tri nodded, his smile falling. "Am I in tubble, mommy?" he asked her sadly.

She laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Not this time," she assured him, making his face light up again. "But the next time, you have to wait for either mommy, Rose, Wyatt or Sylvia, okay?"

Demetri sighed long-sufferingly. "'kay, mommy," he agreed in a small voice.

Brennan made her way back to the group by the sofa. Booth had stood up, shaking Sylvia's hand and introducing himself. "I'm her…Uh, partner," he said, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of her neck.

Sylvia only smiled amusedly. "Right," she nodded. "I'm Sylvia, the nanny slash housekeeper."

"Here, Sylvia," Brennan said, handing the check over to her. "And, Booth, it's okay - Sylvia knows about us."

Booth's eyes widened though he nodded in acceptance of her words. "I won't say a word," Sylvia promised. "Okay, Dr. Brennan, I should be heading home. Bye, Tri, bye Zan!"

"Bye!" the kids chorused. With a smile and a gentle pat on the back sent Rosalie's and Wyatt's way, Sylvia made her way out of the living room and out of the apartment.

Brennan focused her attention on Demetri, smiling down fondly at him. "Mommy, can I go pay with Zanny?" he asked her, eyes fixed on his brother and Parker. "Who dat?"

"That is Parker," Brennan told him. "He's my partner's little man. Say hello to Booth first," she instructed, angling her body so that Demetri's eyes would fall on Booth.

Demetri's eyes grew wide and an adorable little shy smile spread across his lips. "Hi," he mumbled. "I'm Tri."

Booth chuckled at the little boy. "Hey, there, little man," he held out his fist. Demetri recognized the gesture, eyes lighting up, and bumped his own small fist against Booth's much larger one the way he and Wyatt usually greeted each other. "How's it going?"

"Okay," Demetri shrugged, acting sort of grown up without realizing it.

Brennan laughed. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Parker and you can play while I make dinner, okay?" she soothed, pressing a tender kiss to the side of his head.

Demetri nodded, attention already diverted from Booth back to the boys at the kids' corner. Predictably, Zan had already pulled out more of his toys from his wicker box, toys littered all over. "Parker, come say hello to my other little boy, Demetri," she called out when she reached their little play area.

Parker's head snapped up and his eyes zeroed in on Demetri. No longer shy, having been acquainted with Zan long enough, he jumped to his feet and approached her, Zan at his heels. "Hi, Demetri," he beamed at the younger boy. Demetri grinned right back at him, wriggling down from his mother's arms. All three boys ran back to the toys, Tri assuring Parker that now that he was here, they could play with his toys, too.

Brennan turned to the other three. "C'mon, help me with dinner," she urged.

"Aw, mom, do I have to?" Wyatt whined immediately, following his mother and Booth as all four walked towards the kitchen. "I wanted to talk to Abby some more…"

Brennan shot him a look over her shoulder. "What, _more_? How much can a person say without running out of words?" she asked, aghast.

Wyatt looked pointedly at Booth and Brennan as they entered the kitchen. "You tell me," he retorted.

Rosalie snorted. "Yeah, mom's having sex with Booth, _you're_ not having sex with Abby," she pointed out.

Booth, who had been in awe over her kitchen - if her living room had been that stunning, it only stood to reason that her kitchen would be, too - started coughing. "Rose, Booth isn't comfortable with discussions of sex," Brennan informed her daughter matter-of-factly, even as she rubbed her hand against his back.

"Jeez, Bones!" Booth rolled his eyes, his coughing fit ceasing. Rosalie and Wyatt shared a smirk, chuckling.

"What's for dinner, Bones?" Booth asked, abruptly changing the subject to something he wouldn't feel embarrassed to talk about.

Brennan walked over to the fridge, pulling out ingredient after ingredient. Booth stood by her side, taking whatever she took out from her hands and placing it on the kitchen isle. "I thought, for the boys, I could make my Farfalle carbonara with spring peas, and a side of beef balls…" she trailed off, turning her head to look at Booth. "Does Parker eat pasta and meat?"

"Are you kidding?" Booth snorted. "Of course he does."

"Any allergies?"

"Not to any sort of food," he assured her.

She nodded, satisfied, and turned back to the fridge. "For the teens and adults, I was going to just make burgers and homemade fries. Is that okay?"

He grinned at her. "Sounds great, Bones," he agreed with her choices. "Aren't you too tired to be making all that?"

She shook her head. "It's all very easy to make," she waved off his concern. "Besides, I've got my helpers," she shot a smirk at her twins and at Booth.

"Just remember - no fries for me," Rosalie warned her mother. "And my burger's vegetarian."

"Vegetarian?" Booth questioned.

Rosalie gave him a look. "_Hello_, look at my figure," she told him haughtily, gesturing towards her body. "I can't eat meat."

Wyatt snorted. "Just go with it," he advised Booth. "She's been in a constant state of PMS since she was five and the doctors don't think it's going away anytime soon."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "You can make a salad," she told her daughter, who smiled briefly and got to work.

As the four of them worked on dinner, with two interruptions (one from Shark Bait and Baby, running through the kitchen as they play chased each other, and another from Demetri who claimed that his tummy hurt and he needed a cookie to make it feel better), Booth began to relax more and more.

Brennan's secret had been shocking, to say the least. He had never pegged her for a mother, but then again, she had thought he was a bachelor before tonight, as well. Flashes of past cases - with Shawn Cook and that little girl Maya - went through his mind. It was no wonder she was so good with them, and with Parker earlier tonight. She had her own children. Four of them. She was a mother.

He found himself being less and less stunned by it, and by the end of dessert, was only mild surprised that he actually found the idea of Brennan as a mother of four sort of…Warm. Seeing her with her children, joking with her teenagers and just interacting with not only her two little boys, but his own little boy, made him smile uncontrollably.

By eight thirty, with Rosalie and Wyatt up in their rooms doing homework and chatting with friends and doing God knows what else teenagers did, Booth and Brennan curled up on the couch, watching Monsters Inc. with the three little boys - Parker had initially wanted to watch Land Before Time but he'd seen the Monsters Inc. DVD and had been quickly distracted. Since it was a favorite, the other two boys had agreed easily.

"Oh, look…He's asleep," Booth whispered, chancing a glance at Parker. Brennan turned to look and smiled when she saw that all three boys were fast asleep, the excitement of the day having caught up to them. They were on the floor, surrounded by blankets and fluffy throw pillows, limbs tangled as they slept. "I should probably…" he said, turning to catch Brennan's eye. "You know, I mean it's late…"

Brennan smiled, taking his hand before he could stand. "Or," she said slowly. "You could stay." He raised an eyebrow at her suggestion, and she added, "Parker could sleep in the boys' room, if that's okay with you…I mean, we did say we were going to talk…"

He deliberated for barely a fraction of a second before he was nodding his head. He grabbed Parker and Zan, leaving Brennan to carry Tri. Not one of them woke, though Zan did stir a little in Booth's arms before snuggling into his shoulder and snoring away. Zan and Demetri both had trundle beds. Brennan suggested putting Parker down on Demetri's pull out bed, since Zan had a tendency to just stomp down on the ground in the early mornings when he was still bleary and he might accidentally step on Parker without realizing it.

Brennan led Booth to her bedroom, letting him use the en-suite bathroom if he wanted, and went to give Rosalie and Wyatt a quick goodnight.

At first glance, Booth wasn't in her bedroom. She saw the open French doors leading to her balcony, however, and stepped out to join him. "Hey," she said by way of greeting, letting the cool night air wash over her.

He turned his head slightly to give her a smile, leaning against the railing of the balcony, arms spread out on either side and hands gripping the railing. "Hey."

She stepped up next to him, staring out at the night sky for a little while, staying silent in case he needed to say something. When he kept quiet for a few minutes, she spoke up first. "Are you okay with all of this?" she asked him quietly, turning concerned eyes to him. "It's okay if you aren't. I just…I'd want to know."

He gave her a small yet reassuring smile. "No, I'm okay with this," he told her. At her incredulous look, he chuckled, moving and choosing to wrap his arms around her waist instead. "Really, I am. I'm just…Confused, I guess."

"What are you confused about?" she asked, her hands fluttering to his arms around her.

He sighed, dropping his chin on her shoulder. "About how you came about to have four kids," he clarified. "I mean, I guess we both need to talk about our pasts involving our kids. Clear the air."

She nodded. "I promised we would," she pointed out. "I don't back out of my promises."

"I know, Bones," he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "You know…I really do mean what I said before. That I'm sorry."

"I understand, Booth," she comforted him. "You had something to accomplish and you found a logical way of getting what you needed. In hindsight, I supposed I'd overreacted. If I had been in your situation, I probably would have done the same thing."

She had turned around in his embrace, her arms sliding around his neck, and the two shared a private smile. Booth leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Pulling back, he exhaled loudly. "Alright-y, then," he said with mock enthusiasm. "Let's talk."

She chuckled, pulling away from his embrace. She took hold of one of his hands in both of his, walking backwards and leading him back into her bedroom. "Later," she promised, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Right now, I want you."

"_Bones_," he groaned, even as his body started getting excited, responding to that look on her face that meant she was very, very hungry for him.

But they were already in her room, her nimble hands deftly undoing the buttons on his white button down work shirt, shoving them past his shoulders. "It's been three days since we had sex, Booth - I miss having you inside me," she informed him, her tone breathy, husky with her desire as she tugged his undershirt over his head. "I thought about it all through dinner."

Booth growled, large hands spanning her waist and hurriedly, almost roughly, pushing her backwards onto her bed. "Talk later," he agreed, his words almost incoherent, his tone rough with his desire.

Brennan chuckled as Booth lowered his mouth, lips and tongue and teeth tracing a path down her throat, his hands tugging her clothes off. _Good enough for me_.

* * *

Whoo! Definitely a long chapter. I split it in half, just like I said I would, when I realized that it was already 50-something pages long and Booth still hasn't met Brennan's kids.

So, how did you think the episode/chapter went? I know Brennan's OOC, okay? She's not only in a relationship with Booth, she's got four children. There's got to be a swerve from cannon, but I hope that despite the fact that she's all cuddly with our FBI agent, and that she's not as awkward around children doesn't make her seem unappealing to any of you. This is just an AU 'what if' I wanted to write, what with all the angst going on in the Bones world lately. *Sigh*.

Juliet.


	10. The Man in the Fallout Shelter Part 1

**The Clandestine Affair**

**Summary:** Booth and Brennan work together again since the first time they became reluctant partners and made out in front of a bar. Now, with the 2 of them brimming with sexual tension for one another, both realize that they might just have something good going on. They embark on a clandestine love affair, secret to the rest of the world. An AU start to the series. BB, of course.

**A/N:** Brennan is different here than she is in the series. I won't be changing her completely, giving her personality too many changes until she's not Brennan anymore. In fact, I think I'm gonna be channeling 'season 1 Brennan' in terms of how kick ass she was (remember her eco warrior look? Because she was fearless and kick ass in season 1). She's _less_ clueless about the world, however, and this is for exactly **4 reasons**:

- **Rosalie Sinéad Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Rose', Brennan's first born child. 13 years old at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had her and Wyatt with her rich foster brother, Wes, when she was only 15 years old. Brennan's foster parents were mortified and wanted her to abort the child but she wouldn't. After she and Wes actually ran away together to protect their babies, Wes' family decide that the best option would be to marry. Brennan didn't want this but she saw no other option - she was 15, homeless, pregnant and in the foster system. She agreed to marry Wes, but said that she felt that they should have a long engagement until both were out of high school. Wes' parents accepted that and no one was aware that Brennan had no inclination to marry Wes. When Brennan was 18 and graduated from high school, she took Rosalie and Wyatt and ran, leaving behind the engagement ring and a letter of explanation. She left a number Wes could call if he wanted. Wes' parents wanted to sue her for custody but Wes disagreed. He loved Brennan and knew that she would work her hardest to be the best mother she could to the twins. He offered Brennan a free lease to ask for financial support from the family if she wanted. Wes went to Harvard and Brennan went to Northwestern, effectively breaking up. Rosalie plans to be an anthropologist, just like her mother whom she idolizes, and is nicknamed 'Mini' by Booth because of the way she was exactly like a younger version of Brennan. She loves school and takes on several different extracurricular activities to add to her transcript for college - e.g., she writes for the school paper, even becoming the student editor by the time she was a junior, a part of the student council, a member of the girls basketball team, etc. - and went on to Yale to study anthropology.

- **Wyatt Ephraim Brennan**, Rose's twin brother. Also 13 at the start of this fanfic. Same initial family background as Rose. Wyatt is a genius who has photographic memory and the ability to piece together evidence quickly - he was really into puzzles when he was younger. He had previously wanted to be a forensic artist, like Angela, because of his talent in art but when he met Booth and observed the way law enforcement and forensics can work together, he changed career course and wishes to be an FBI agent specializing in homicide. He went on to Yale to study law enforcement and forensic science.

**- Alexander Nikolas Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly called 'Zan'. 4 at the start of this fanfic. Brennan had him when she was 24 years old, at a dig she went to in Greece. There she met fellow Greek guide, Christian Ares. Christian was so enamored by Brennan that he came to the States with her. They dated each other for two more years after that before breaking up. Christian stayed in DC because he wanted to be a part of his kids' lives. Zan's the most action-addicted of the four Brennan kids, always clamoring to play this game or that. He has a sort of addiction to video games, however, and Brennan often has to forcibly take them away from him to get him to stop playing.

- **Demetrius Gabriel Ares-Brennan**, or most commonly referred to as either 'Tri' or 'Demetri'. He's 3 at the start of this fanfic. He's Brennan's and Christian's second and last child, born only a year after his brother. Tri is very interested in animals, and is always begging Brennan to get more pets - he already has a pet chameleon and a pet hamster. He wants three dogs, two cats and a rabbit for Christmas.

Appearances:

Rosalie - she is incredibly beautiful, with dark golden caramel hair which has natural loose barrel curls, dark cobalt blue eyes, porcelain skin and perfect angular features. She's quite tall, reaching 5'9 by the time she's 17, and is in good shape thanks to being quite athletic (basketball, yoga and martial arts).

Wyatt - a handsome boy who takes after both his parents, Wyatt has Brennan's dark auburn hair, dark emerald eyes and chiseled features even at a young age. He's, like his sister, tall, reaching 6'3 by the time he's 17 and is very athletic, playing on his school's basketball and baseball teams. He's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and karate, having taken lessons with Rosalie since he was six.

Zan - a beautiful little boy with messy inky black hair and light brown eyes, both of which he'd inherited from his father. He bears not much physical resemblance to Brennan, except for the shape of her lips and nose, and her crooked smile.

Demetri - like his brother, Tri has an exotic look about him thanks to their Greek father. He has dark hair, the same as Zan's, and chocolate brown eyes but the rest of him was Brennan - the same strong jaw, the same curve of the lips, the same nose, the same everything. He has tanner skin, like Zan, than Brennan however.

P.S. I'm sorry about giving Brennan so many kids, especially since she's only 28 at the start of season 1 and at the start of this story. I don't know what it is about maternal Brennan that I just like so much. Besides, I think that if Brennan had kids and have experienced unconditional love like most parents do towards their children, then she would be more open to being in a relationship with Booth, especially right from the start.

Well, without any delay, here's 'The Clandestine Affair':

**A quick note: **None of what happens in Part 1 of 'The Man in the Fallout Shelter' happened in the real episode. I planned on adding in bits and pieces of family life but there was just so much to be written. Understandable, considering how many kids Brennan has and the complicated changes I'd made to her past. I hope you'll enjoy Part 1, and Part 2 which will include the lockdown at the Jeffersonian, coming up next.

_December 13, 2005_

"So she's just…Not going to give you even Christmas weekend?" Brennan asked, angry at Rebecca for Booth.

Booth, sitting on the couch with her, bowl of popcorn and cranberries between them as they each strung together separate garlands, shook his head, a sad frown on his face. "No, she's not," he exhaled loudly. "She said that I'm getting him Christmas morning on Sunday, for half the day, so that should be enough for me."

Brennan shook her head, giving Booth a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, Booth," she murmured. "I know you were really looking forward to spending time with him on the weekend."

Booth gave her a weak smile in return, not saying anything.

Things have Rebecca had been strained lately, even more so than usual. He knew the reason perfectly well - he had told Rebecca about Brennan's family life, with Brennan's permission, of course, the day he had brought Parker back to her place after finding out about it himself. Rebecca hadn't been very happy about it, mostly because Parker had raved about how much fun he'd had playing with Zan and Tri, and the dogs. He'd even mentioned the twins and how cool 'Bones' was.

He hadn't said anything to Brennan, knowing that she would be overly concerned about this. He loved his son, he really did, and nothing would ever get in the way of him spending time with Parker. Not if he could help it.

But he loved spending time with Brennan. He was starting to love _her_. He didn't want to give her up, either.

Rebecca making a big deal about his relationship with a mother of four just because their son enjoyed being in the company of other kids his age…It was ridiculous. And her even asking him to either break up with Brennan or ensure that Brennan and her kids not be a part of Parker's life was even more preposterous.

He had no idea what she was making such a big fuss about. If it had been _her_ who had started a relationship with a man with his own kid, Booth wouldn't have been able to say a word about it. And if she asked that man to move in with her, creating a 'pseudo family unit' with Parker and said fictional child, he still wouldn't be able to object.

As it was, she was already in a steady relationship with a man whom Booth only referred to as 'Captain Fantastic' these days.

Brennan nodded in the children's living room play corner, where Zan, Tri and Parker were playing together, Shark Bait (Zan and Tri's Bichon Frise puppy), currently sleeping on the ottoman. "At least you have him now," she pointed out.

"Yeah, for the night," he replied bitterly, almost stabbing himself with the needle in his hand as he remembered Rebecca calling him in the middle of his work day to inform him that he would be picking Parker up and keeping him for the night since she had a late meeting she couldn't get out of. "I send him off to school tomorrow, and that's it. I won't be seeing him again until Christmas morning."

Suddenly not in a very Christmassy-garland mood, Booth put his half-finished garland aside on the table. He hunched forward, arms on his thighs and hands clasping together.

Brennan watched him silently, her fingers continuing the routine of putting two popcorns and one cranberries without her looking, before following suit, placing the bowl and her unfinished garland on the coffee table. She scooted closer to Booth, placing a hand on his arm.

He looked up to see the concern swimming around in her blue eyes. He wasn't sure if she knew, but the look in her eyes, he was certain, mirrored his own whenever he looked at her - affection, care, maybe-love-but-not-in-love-yet. He was already ready to admit that the feelings he had for her were far stronger, far more than anything he'd felt for anyone in a long time. He wasn't quite at the point where he could acknowledge what it was - at least, not out loud, even if it was just to himself - so he knew she wasn't there yet, either.

Whatever it was, their relationship was complicated enough. He didn't need to be all girly, bring up the 'where do we stand' conversation and send her running in the opposite direction.

Especially not during Christmas, when he was trying to make the best out of everything despite the sadness he felt at not having proper time with his family and at the fact that his time with Parker was so limited.

"I'm really sorry, Booth," Brennan said again, scooting closer still to him. Her arms slipped through his, wrapping around his muscled bicep. She leaned her head close to him, burying her nose in the crook of his neck, inhaling his masculine scent, and comforting him without even being aware of it. "I wish there's something I could do."

A sudden inspiration striking her, she pulled back to look at him, giving him that wide-eyed, excited look that she sometimes got right before chasing down a dangerous suspect without a care in the world. "We could call up a friend of mine," she suggested. "He's a lawyer in family court…He could help you get at least partial custody of Parker if you wanted…"

Booth gave her a smile that was decidedly less sadder than before. "Thanks, Bones," he murmured, leaning into her to brush a kiss upon her lips. "That's sweet of you to offer."

Brennan frowned. "But…" she trailed off, sensing that he wasn't going to take her up on her 'sweet offer'.

He shrugged, "I don't want to involve lawyers and court and scary things like that. Not when Parker's only four…I mean, I'd love to have joint custody of him. Equal custody…But I want to at least try and settle this without having to involve legal action." He sucked in a deep breath, raising his hand to swipe it down his face. "I mean, I know we're so far past that now, but Rebecca and I loved each other once…I'm hoping that we can find some sort of solid ground, you know? We don't have to like each other, but at least _tolerate_ each other for the sake of Parker."

Brennan smiled softly at him, resting her cheek against his shoulder as she gazed up at him.

It had struck her as unfair the moment he'd informed her of his situation with Parker and Rebecca Stinson, Parker's mother.

Booth was such a good man; better than Wes, and so much far better than Christian, Zan's and Tri's father. Wes, she couldn't begrudge him much - he, too, had only been a teenager when Rosalie and Wyatt had come into the picture. She had to admit, reluctantly, that she couldn't have made it through high school and college while taking care of the twins if it hadn't been for the help he'd provided her with, even if he wasn't there in person for most of the twins' lives.

Christian, on the other hand, had much more obvious flaws she had only begun to see when she discovered she was pregnant with Tri. He'd claimed that he wanted to be around for Zan and Tri but he was rarely there to just be with his sons. He was much more interested in the women he'd somehow managed to find - blonde, beautiful, completely without strings attached, unlike Brennan herself.

Booth, however, was a man so different than the ones she had known (save for her own father when he had been around - but that had been so long ago when she was much younger and she had mostly forgotten what it was like to have Matthew Brennan in her life, especially after having gone through so much in her life that it had felt like she'd gone through several lifetimes in the past thirteen years) that he had given her such a shock when he'd entered her life, and an even bigger shock when he'd revealed to her his relationship with Parker.

The fact that he had a son wasn't as shocking to her as the fact that he wanted to have a strong, solid, 'forever' sort of bond with his son.

"You are such a good man, Booth," she sighed, untangling one of her arms from around his bicep and reaching up to gently brush her hand down the side of his weary-looking face. He gave a silent scoff, but she shook her head, insisting, "You are. It's not fair that you have to give up time with Parker…I hope Rebecca gets over whatever animosity she has with you and realizes what a good father you are to your son."

Booth took in a deep breath, slowly retracting his arm from her so that he could wrap his arms around her body. Pulling her near, he reclined back against the couch, Brennan snuggled into his side, her ear pressed to his heart and her arm loosely placed around his torso. Booth lowered his head, his nose buried between the silken strands of her hair. He breathed her in, amazed yet again at how her words, her presence, her touch were like a soothing balm to his soul, to his heart.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he felt her press kisses over his clothed chest, right where his heart was. He opened his mouth, about to tell her what a good thing it was that he had her with him right then, when he heard her calling out to Parker.

"Parker, the doors are locked, you can't open them," Brennan told the inquisitive young boy who was diligently trying to pry open the glass doors of the fireplace. She had made sure that the fireplace was child-proofed so that neither Zan nor Tri could accidentally get hurt if there was a fire roaring inside. Locked glass doors seemed like a good idea.

Parker huffed, obviously dissatisfied, and though he ceased trying to pull the doors open, he crouched down and peered through the slightly tinted glass to see into the fireplace.

Apparently finding what he was looking for, he st6od back up and ran towards the couch where Booth and Brennan were. "Azcuze me, daddy, Bones?" he said in this polite tone that made Brennan smile brightly - it was so obvious, at even such a young age, that Parker had inherited his father's charm. He exuded it without even realizing it, much like Booth did, though the older Booth did know how to wield his charm purposely if he wanted. "I fink we need ta clean out the fire-pace so Santa won't get his boots all dirty Christmas eve."

Booth felt a lurch in his heart when he realized that his little boy thought he would be spending Christmas morning at Brennan's apartment. _Well, to be fair_, he thought to himself. _Since meeting Brennan and her family a few weeks back, whenever Parker spends nights with me, we're always over here…I can't even remember the last time we slept over at mine_.

Booth pulled away from Brennan's hug, silently praying that she wouldn't be too freaked by his son's assumption, and leaned forward to explain to Parker that Christmas morning would be spent at his apartment, like they'd done for the past two years - that first year, he had only managed to visit his baby boy at Rebecca's since she was pissed off at him for everything and wouldn't let him have any time alone with Parker.

Before he could, however, Zan had ran over to the three of them. "Parker," Zan called out to his new, instant best friend. "What are you doing? Come play with us."

"I'm just askin' about Santa, Zan," Parker explained patiently.

And, in exactly three seconds, Zan had - in Booth's overly dramatic mind - 'ruined Parker's childhood'.

Scoffing, Zan shook his head. "Santa doesn't exist," he told Parker matter-of-factly. "Now come on!"

Parker, who looked absolutely stricken by what Zan had said, was jolted out of his shock when Shark Bait came running at him, nudging his leg with his snout. Scowling at Zan, Parker insisted, "Santa exists!"

"Does not!"

"Does, too!"

"Not!"

"_Too!_"

"_Not!_"

"T-"

"Whass goin' on?" Tri asked, ambling closer to peer interestedly at his older brother and their new friend.

Parker, crossing his arms across his chest, scowled unhappily at Zan as he said, "Zan thinks Santa's not real."

Tri blinked. "Oh," he muttered, disappointed that Parker had been making such a big fuss over nothing. "He's _not_ weal."

Parker's jaw dropped in tandem with Booth's. "Is, too!" Parker spluttered.

Tri have Parker a look that suggested he was concerned for his friend's intelligence - a look that was, frankly, a little strange for a three year old to have - and turned to his mother. "Momma," he exhaled, as though he was exasperated. "Will you _peas_ tell Pawkaw that Santa's not weal?"

Booth turned to Brennan, in shock at the non-Santa-believing children she'd raised. What three year old in the world didn't believe that Santa was real? It was just…Unnatural. What about the innocence of childhood? What about the magic they were supposed to believe in? They had to believe in it now, before they grew up and became too jaded to see it all.

Brennan didn't return his gaze despite feeling it burning into her. "Zan, Tri, why don't you go grab the book on St. Nicholas? The one we always read during Christmastime?"

Zan and Tri nodded, running off towards Brennan's home office slash study, where there was a tiny, mocha colored little cubby-styled bookshelf where they kept some of the books Brennan had bought for them and encouraged for them to read. Parker, still angry at Zan and Tri, was still standing with his arms crossed, a scowl on his lips.

Brennan reached out to grasp him by the shoulders gently. "Parker, buddy, why don't you go into the kitchen and ask Sylvia for a juice box for you, Zan and Tri?" she suggested gently. Parker blinked, momentarily distracted. "When you come back, we can have a story time."

Parker's anger completely abandoned, his entire little chubby face lit up. "Yes!" he cheered, pumping his fist in the air and running off in the direction of the kitchen.

Once Parker was gone, Brennan angled her body towards her partner. She shot Booth a repentant look. "I'm so sorry, Booth," she hastened to apologize.

"Your kids don't believe in _Santa_?" he hissed, his dark eyes clouding over as he realized that not only was a part of Parker's childhood innocence robbed - if he couldn't do some damage control, of course, which he was going to try his hardest to do - he was also going to have to explain to Rebecca why Parker didn't believe in Santa anymore if Brennan went ahead to tell him whatever she'd told her own sons.

Brennan shook her head. "Santa doesn't exist, Booth," she said, as though reminding him of a very important fact he'd let slip from his mind. "I didn't want to lie to them and say that he does."

Booth frowned at her. "Temperance, my son is four," he stressed in a hushed voice. "I can't have you going around telling him that Santa and magic isn't real, okay?"

She blinked innocently at him. "Why not?" she inquired naively.

Booth exhaled loudly, glaring at her even as he slumped against the backrest of the couch. "Good God, Bones…" he groaned. "He's a kid, okay? He's supposed to believe in the good things in life, even when the rest of us know that they're not real."

Brennan frowned as she considered his way of thinking. It didn't make sense to her at all that he would want Parker to believe in something that wasn't there, to give him hope, then tear it away from him when he was older and had cemented his belief in Santa Claus for years. Wouldn't it be better to let him believe in the 'magic' that exists than lie to him about the magic that didn't?

The adults didn't get a chance to say anything else to each other, the pitter patter of little feet interrupting them.

"Here, mommy!" Tri eagerly shoved a thin children's book with a colorful bind and illustrative cover in Brennan's direction.

Booth's eye caught something on the cover and he leaned forward to read the title of the book. "Saint Nicholas, the Real Santa Claus," he read out loud, raising an eyebrow at Brennan.

Brennan smiled softly at him. "While I'm not a religious person, I do believe in letting the kids enjoy Christmas," she started to explain. "Santa Claus may be just a fictional character but he was based on someone real. I tell them _that_ story instead."

Booth felt a slow smile start to spread over his own lips as he gazed at her. "Really?" he asked, his tone reflecting how he was calming down. "You do? You're okay with them believing that Saint Nicholas was real?"

Brennan shook her head, flipping the book over to show one of the small illustrations at the back, on the top left corner. "Saint Nicholas _did_ exist, Booth," she told him matter-of-factly. She pointed to the illustration of a red-colored tomb, with mourners surrounding it. "There are records, scientific research and even human remains that supports that statement. I wouldn't be lying to them if I told them this story."

Parker returned to the living room, three grape juice boxes in his small hands. He reluctantly handed two of the juice boxes to Zan and Tri, apparently not over his anger at them for saying that Santa didn't exist.

"Okay. Let's get started on the story," Brennan said, shifting on the couch. "Why don't you sit next to me, Parker?" she suggested, patting the empty spot between her and Booth. "So you can see the pictures?"

Parker beamed, throwing himself on the couch between the two of them. Zan wedged himself in between Parker and Booth, and Tri climbed onto Brennan's lap.

Brennan placed her chin on top of Tri's mop of inky black hair, opening the hard-cover book to the first page. "Alright…" Brennan turned her head, lowering her gaze to meet Parker's wide, inquisitive brown eyes, so much like his father's. "Parker, I'm sorry that you had to find out the way you did, but Zan and Tri were right - Santa Claus isn't real."

Parker, whose eyes had widen to an astronomical size, began to tear up. He knew, even without his daddy telling him, that 'Bones' knew everything in the whole wide world. If she thought that Santa didn't exist, then he probably didn't. "He isn't?" he whispered in dismay.

Brennan shook her head, frowning sadly as she hugged Parker to her side with one arm, her hand coming up to brush through his soft blonde hair. "No, Parker, he's not," she murmured softly. "He's just a story that mommies and daddies tell to little kids just like you, to make Christmas easier to understand…The thing is, while Santa isn't real, the man that I'm about to tell you about, the one that Santa was based off of, is real."

Parker, sadness temporarily forgotten, looked up at her in confusion. "Huh?"

Reminding herself that the little boy was only four, Brennan simplified her words. She pointed to the black and white illustration of a smiling man in centuries-old bishop robes and jeweled gloves. "You see this guy? His name was Saint Nicholas," she revealed to Parker in a hushed tone, merely for the sake of dramatics. "He was the real Santa Claus."

Parker's wide eyed gaze alternated between the open book to Brennan several times. "Whoa," he whispered in awe.

Brennan bit back a smile as she stopped on the very first page with nothing but the title of the story on it. "This is the story of Saint Nicholas, the _real_ Santa Claus…" she read, then turned the page to read the first sentence of the story.

"Saint Nicholas was born thousands and thousands of years ago, in a city called Patara," she begun.

Parker interrupted with a giggle. "That's a funny name," he commented childishly.

Brennan merely smiled indulgently at him, and Booth looked on, daring to hope that this whole 'Saint Nicholas' thing might just work out in his favor.

"Where's Patara, Bones?" Parker inquired curiously.

Instead of Brennan, Zan answered for her, having heard this story every Christmas since he was a baby. "Pa-ta-ra is a city in Le-sheee-aaa," he told Parker, exaggerating the word 'Lycia' as he tried to pronounced it carefully. "That's in Asia."

"Asia Minor," Brennan corrected.

The four year old nodded as though he knew what that meant. "Now, mommy said that if you look at a map, it's called 'Turkey'," Zan continued.

Parker wrinkled his nose. "Like Thanksgiving?"

Tri grinned crookedly. "Yep!" he answered happily, laughing when Shark Bait jumped up on the couch next to Brennan, laying its head against Tri's small leg.

Brennan laughed at the three of them. "Okay, guys, let's get back to the story," she chided softly. When they grew silent and turned their attention back to the book, she began to read again.

"Nicholas' parents died when he was just a teenager. His parents left him a lot of money which made him a rich young man. He went to live with his uncle who was a priest. One day, Nicholas heard about a man who had lost all his money. He had three daughters who were old enough to get married. But in those days young women had to have money in order to get married. This money was called a "dowry", and it was used to help the new family get started. If you didn't have dowry money, you didn't get married," Brennan read.

"This family was so poor they had nothing left to eat. The daughters were going to be sold as slaves because they couldn't live at home any longer," the 'actual' story involved the three young women becoming prostitutes if they couldn't get married, but since this was a children's storybook, they'd altered it.

Brennan continued to read, shooting Booth a smile over Parker's and Zan's heads when she realized that Parker was completely engrossed in the story now, "They were very sad. They wouldn't be able to have families of their own. And they would have to be slaves—no longer able to decide where they would live or what they would do."

Parker frowned sadly at the book. "This isn't a very happy story," he informed Brennan in a wry tone.

She laughed. "It gets better," she promised him. At his reluctant nod, she continued.

"The night before the oldest daughter was to be sold as a slave, she washed her stockings and put them in front of the fire to dry. Then all of them went to sleep—the father and the three daughters. In the morning the daughter saw a lump in her stocking. Reaching in, she found a small, heavy bag. It had gold inside! Enough to provide food for the family and money for her dowry. Oh, how happy they were!" she adopted an animated tone as she read the story, grinning as Parker grew excited. Even Zan and Tri, who had heard the story countless times since they tended to choose this as a bed time story all through Christmas season, joined in his excitement.

"Did Santa do that!" Parker asked eagerly, dark brown eyes sparkling happily.

Tri shook his head from his perch on Brennan's lap. "No, siwwy!" he laughed. "Saint Nico-whass did dat!"

Brennan nodded in agreement with Tri. "Demetri's right," she confirmed before continuing on with the story. "The next morning, another bag with gold was found. Imagine! Two of the daughters would now be saved. Such joy! And the next night, the father planned to stay awake to find out who was helping his daughters. He dozed off, but heard a small "clink" as another bag landed in the room. Quickly he jumped up and ran out the door. Who did he catch ducking around the corner? Nicholas, the young man who lived with his uncle. "Nicholas, it is you! Thank you for helping us — I hardly know what to say!" the father cried. Nicholas shook his head and said, "Please, do not thank me — I do not want gratitude, nor do I want others to know of my deeds. We only give help to those who need it, the way we wish others to help us if we need it. Please, do not tell others about me"."

"Nicholas continued helping people. He always tried to help secretly. He didn't want any attention or thanks. Years passed and he was chosen to be a bishop. Bishops look after their people as shepherds look after their sheep. And that is what Nicholas did. When there wasn't any food, he found wheat; so no one went hungry. He always helped people in trouble. All his life Nicholas showed people how to love and care for each other. Everyone loved Nicholas. After he died, they told stories of the good and kind things Nicholas had done. The father of the three young women finally came forth and told others of the way that Nicholas had helped him. Sailors took these stories about Nicholas everywhere they went. Some of the stories were about his special care for children — helping and protecting them when danger threatened. And so more and more people learned about good, kind Nicholas. They wanted to be like him. He is an example of how we should live. And that is why he was given the title of a saint."

Parker pursed his lips. "Because he was a really good person who always helped other people?"

Booth nodded, lifting Zan and Parker and placing each little boy on his knees. "That's right," he answered Parker's question, deciding to be a part of the story-telling now.

Brennan smiled, ducking her head to press a kiss to the top of Tri's head before she continued reading, "Saint Nicholas' gifts were always given late at night when he was alive, mostly because he wanted his identity to be a secret…Since he was such a rich man, he would travel the world, helping everyone who needed it, giving not only presents but money and any other help that he could. He didn't want attention for the presents he gave, nor did he want to embarrass the poor by telling everyone that they needed help, so the story started about a man named Santa Claus who would come to houses in the middle of the night, and give exactly what everyone needed. But Santa, Nicholas would say, wouldn't come until all the children were asleep."

"When he died," Brennan finished. "And everyone knew how much good he had done, they named Nicholas a saint. Because he had helped so many people, especially children, adults made up a story to cheer up children every time Christmas came around. They named Saint Nicholas 'Santa Claus', calling him the special friend of children, and told the story of Santa coming down the chimney with presents for everyone."

Brennan closed the book, smiling. "And _that_ is the story of the real Santa Claus," she ended.

Booth and Brennan were both silent as they looked down at Parker. He looked to be deep in thought, his dark brown eyes as contemplative as Brennan's when she was analyzing a set of remains. "Parks?" Booth prompted after a few moments of silence. "Do you have any questions?"

Parker pursed his lips. "How come people don't just tell the Nicholas story?" he asked finally. "How come they talk about Santa?"

Booth shrugged. "Because, bub…Sometimes parents make stuff up, like the flying reindeer, to make things a little more cheerful and magical," he tried to explain delicately. "The Santa story is a pretty old one, bub, and I guess it just became a tradition."

"So none of it is real?" Parker asked, dismayed. "The chimney and the reindeer and Santa knowing where everybody is?"

Brennan scooted closer to Booth, closing the distance between them now that Zan and Parker were both sitting on Booth's knees. "You know what, Parker? I always tell Zan and Tri, and Rose and Wyatt that even though that made up story isn't real, the magic always is," she informed him gently.

Parker looked up at her with wide eyes. "Really?" he sounded disbelieving now.

Brennan nodded. "When I found out about Santa not being real, my dad told me that the magic lies in people doing good things, and carrying on what Saint Nicholas started," she smiled as she remembered the long discussion that had followed Russ informing her that Santa wasn't real so she didn't have to worry about 'the chimney size being too small for him to climb through'. Her father had lied to her, of course, in a wayward attempt much like Booth's to 'preserve her innocence', but Brennan had been smart even as a child - she had dusted her father's winter boots with talcum powder so that it would leave footprints as evidence. When she had confronted him on Christmas morning about 'Santa's footprints', he had been forced to reveal to her the truth.

"The magic exists when we do something good, not for ourselves, but for other people," she said what Matthew had told her, almost word for word.

"And," Booth added in, smiling now that he was certain this was turning out to be not such a bad thing. "Magic is always there when we remember how lucky we are."

"We are?"

Booth nodded. "Yeah. You've got a lot of things a lot of kids in the world don't. You've got parents, you've got a home, you've got friends, you've got…"

"School!" Tri chimed in helpfully.

Parker wrinkled his nose. "That's not always a good thing, Tri," he said condescendingly, patting Tri on the shoulder.

Booth hid a grin and Brennan rolled her eyes.

"We've got Shark Bait!" Zan added after some thought, watching as the tiny, energetic puppy hopped down from the couch, bored with the story-telling, and scampered off to chase after Baby, Rose's Spitz.

This turned out to be the trigger for a game of 'we've got', where the three of them ran around the living room, play wrestling and yelling out random thoughts on what they felt they were lucky to have.

"We've got Spongebob!"

"We've got pants!"

"We've got Sylvia!"

Booth reclined backwards, slouching against the couch's backrest, exhaling in relief. Brennan watched him with an amused look. "Are you still angry and anxious over Parker learning that Santa isn't real?" she questioned him curiously.

Booth bit his lip, pondering her question. "You know what? I think this turned out well," he admitted. "I mean, if I had to choose, I wouldn't wish that he'd learn about it so early. He's only four. But…I think maybe you're right."

"I'm always right," this was punctuated with a smug expression. Her smile faltered slightly. "What am I right about, exactly?"

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You were right in saying that it's a good thing to tell Parker the story of Saint Nicholas," he elaborated. "At least, you know, it's a more believable Santa."

Brennan scoffed, placing the book aside on the coffee table. "Oh, don't get carried away - I still don't tell them all that ridiculous hooey about Nicholas bringing three individuals back to life after they've been murdered and chopped up, or about the so-called miracles he supposedly performed."

Booth threw a look over his shoulder at where his son was playing with Zan and Tri, blissfully unaware of this conversation. "_Bones!_" he hissed. "Lower your voice, would ya? Parker's gonna start Sunday school soon enough and I don't want him to hear that religious miracles are a bunch of nonsense."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Well, he'll grow up and realize it someday," she insisted.

Booth huffed, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his fist. "Can we just…Not talk about this?" he growled. "I'm in an almost good mood about Parker and Santa. Let's not ruin it."

Brennan sighed. "Your mood swings are giving me metaphorical whiplash, Booth," she grumbled. "If I wasn't so used to teenagers…"

He shot her an offended look. "I don't have mood swings," he defended. "And I have an emotional maturity far beyond the level of an adolescent, thank you."

"_Right_."

Before he could retort, Rosalie came into the living room, lugging bags in her arms that she had brought all the way down from her room. She placed them near the entrance of the living room, knowing that Brennan didn't want all their luggage crowding up the foyer or the narrow hallway entry.

Booth, distracted, raised his eyebrows at the sight of all the luggage. Standing up, he stretched his legs and made his way to where Rose was. She was placing her bags - two white and black travel suitcases, a matching black and white square vanity case, a bubblegum pink rectangular vanity case with the trademark Chanel logo on it - next to Brennan's bags, the Ed Hardy trolley suitcase for Wyatt, and the matching, smaller one for Zan and Tri to share.

"Whoa," Booth commented as he approached Rose. "How much stuff do you need? You're only going on vacation for two weeks."

Rosalie straightened up, leveling Booth with a glare - her trademark expression, he'd deduced since their first meeting. "Booth, I don't know what _you_ need when you're on vacation, but us beautiful girls need a lot of things to _stay_ beautiful," she informed him huffily.

_Yep_, he thought. _Definitely inherited the attitude from Bones_.

"You're bringing two make-up cases?" Brennan asked, frowning as she nodded at the luggage.

Rosalie nodded. "You remember last summer? We went to France, and they lost my make-up bag?" she prompted.

Brennan nodded, remembering Rosalie's freak-out quite clearly. Rosalie had only been twelve when that had happened, and her make-up case was significantly smaller and less varied than it was this year, but it had been her first year being allowed to wear any sort of make-up at all. She'd gone to great lengths to pick only the best types that wouldn't 'clot her skin' or 'make it all oily'. Losing all of that 'great, hard work' had been a hyperventilation-inducing four hours for her.

"Well, I'm not taking any chances this year," Rosalie explained. "This," she placed a hand on the black and white vanity case - which, Booth noted, had a Prada logo on it - "Is going to be in cargo, with all our other luggage. This." She pointed to the pink Chanel case. "Is going to be carry-on. All the good stuff's in there."

Booth shook his head. "Okay, you're thirteen," he pointed out unnecessarily. "Where are you getting all the money for this?"

Brennan scowled at him, taking offense to his words for reasons he didn't understand. "I certainly didn't just hand over the money to her," she said defensively, crossing her arms across her chest. "Rose and Wyatt earn the money they receive, and when Zan and Tri are old enough, they will, too."

Rosalie nodded, backing her mother up. "Extra chores around the house, outstanding grades, volunteer work, babysitting," she listed off. "And Wyatt and I started working part-time whenever we can this year."

Booth held up his hands, in a show of surrender. "Whoa, hey, didn't mean to upset anyone," he soothed. "I just meant…You know, at thirteen, I couldn't afford any of this. I was just surprised, is all."

Brennan nodded, her lips pursed in contemplation. "Well, I suppose that their allowance is larger than that of normal thirteen year olds," she conceded. "And the bonus money they get for the good things they do is also more than just ten or twenty dollars…But I feel they deserve it. Besides, there's no reason for me to be stingy about the money I earn to my own children."

Rosalie, bored with this conversation, raised her arms, holding out the two bags she held, one in each hand. "I need your help," she told Brennan. "Which should I bring on the trip? My Donna Karan? Or my Balenciaga?" she asked, holding up the two tote bags for her mother to see clearly.

Booth rolled his eyes, watching the exchange.

Even though he knew Brennan stressed to her kids the value of money - he had caught an argument between Brennan and Wyatt barely a week ago regarding Wyatt wanting to buy a new phone when he had just bought his latest one two months ago; Brennan had clearly put her foot down and flat out refused Wyatt's request, which her son hadn't been too happy about - he also knew that for Brennan, being frugal wasn't the same to her as it was to him.

She had more money than he would ever see in his entire lifetime, and she spent it on things she deemed necessary - like groceries at that ridiculously expensive organic store - without much thought.

He wasn't sure if he was altogether okay with that, but there was nothing he could really do about that. He wasn't a petty man, he was happy for her and that she was so successful. She deserved it, after everything she'd told him about her past. He supposed his ego was just bruised a little.

Booth sighed. _Dating a rich woman isn't all that easy_, he concluded.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Parker crashed into Brennan's legs, hugging the slim curve of her hips with thin, small arms. He watched with a smile as Brennan bent down and scooped Parker into her arms, pretending he was getting much too big, much too heavy, too quickly, joking that by the time she returned from her trip, she wouldn't be able to carry him anymore.

_But I wouldn't give it up for the world_, he decided, his insecurities washing away as he watched two of the most important people in his world interact.

"Where are you goin', Bones?" Parker asked curiously, back arched as he gazed at her, small hands on each of her shoulders.

Brennan smiled, shifting him on her hips when he started to slip. "I'm going to go to Mont-Tremblant," she told him. "It's a tiny little village in Quebec."

"Kay-bedeck?" Parker tried to emulate.

"Quebec," Brennan corrected, sounding out the word properly until he got it. "That's in Canada."

Parker frowned. "You're not gonna be here on Christmas?"

Brennan gave him an apologetic look. "No. I'm so sorry, Parker, but I already made plans with Rosalie, Wyatt, Zan and Tri…"

Parker's eyes widened further and he gasped in outrage. "_Zan and Tri _are gonna not be here on _Kissmas!_" he cried in dismay, his distress causing him to revert back to his old pronunciation of the word. His head whipped around to Booth, brown eyes filling up with tears. "Daddy!" he said, as though he expected Booth to turn things around and fix this less-than-pleasant situation.

Booth reached out, taking Parker from Brennan's arms. "I know, buddy," he sympathized. He wanted Brennan to stay in DC for the holidays, too, but taking vacations with her family was a tradition in the Brennan household. He knew how busy she was the rest of the year, and how torn up she was every time they had to work late or go out of town for a case…If this was one of the rare times that she got to spend time with them without being interrupted or pulled away rudely, then he wasn't going to be an jerk about it.

"But, you know what? We'll still have our Christmas morning together, huh? And you, mommy and Captain Fantastic are going to see grandma and grandpa, right?"

Parker nodded, still looking forlorn. "But I wanna play with Zan and Tri and the doggies," he pouted.

Rosalie, watching the interaction with interest, was instantly hit with a sudden strike of inspiration. "Hey, you and Boo…Uh, I mean, your daddy," she corrected herself with a roll of the eyes. "You're going to spend this weekend together, right?"

Booth and Parker both nodded. "Where are you going with this, Mini?" Booth asked curiously.

Rosalie halted, glared at him then turned her piercing eyes to Brennan. "Will you get him to stop calling me that?" she complained.

Booth, the first morning he had woken up at Brennan's apartment - right after the night when Brennan had finally revealed to him about her home life - had seen the uncanny similarities between Brennan and Rosalie, not just in terms of physical appearances, but personality-wise, too. He had dubbed her 'Mini' before his first cup of coffee was even finished.

Brennan shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, but I'm still trying to get him to stop calling me 'Bones'," she reminded Rose.

Rosalie sighed long-sufferingly, crossing her arms petulantly.

Booth merely grinned at the both of them. "Aw, you'd both hate it if I stopped," he teased. "It's a term of endearment now, babes."

"Don't call me 'babe'," Brennan and Rosalie snapped at the same time.

Parker giggled and Booth simply gaped with wide eyes, "Whoa."

"Mommy! Mommy!" they heard, and saw Tri rushing towards them, face covered in what looked to be frosting. "Come look! The cu-cakes are finished!"

Brennan scooped Tri off the floor, laughing as she gently wiped some of the frosting off his nose. Booth, still carrying Parker, and Rosalie followed her, walking together towards the kitchen.

"As I was saying," Rosalie huffed. _What's with the interruptions? It's rude_, she thought to herself. _I could be done by now. My nails aren't a winter color yet and I can't go on vacation with non-winter nails_. "Maybe you and Parker could come spend time with us - since we're always stuck at our sperm donor's parents' house Christmas eve and Christmas day, and that always sucks, we make it a tradition to have an Early Christmas Day."

Parker lit up at Rose's words. "Early Christmas Day?" he asked, intrigued.

Rose nodded. "We do Christmas things," she explained. "You know, wake up to a Christmas breakfast, sit around the tree drinking hot chocolate-"

"Yes!" Parker cheered on an excited hiss.

"-Build snowmen, maybe go ice-skating, open presents…"

"Yeah!" Tri cheered, perking up at the mention of 'presents'. Parker echoed his sentiment.

Rosalie did that 'quirk-in-the-corner-of-her-lip' thing that would've qualified for a full blown smile on anyone else, sharing a look with Booth. "If you want," she added. "You can join us."

Booth tore his gaze away from 'Mini' to look down at his son's excited little face. "Whaddaya say, bub?" he asked, pretending not to be too thrilled with the idea. "Do you think we should do that?"

"Yes!" came Parker's enthusiastic response. "Please, daddy? Please? It's gonna be so much fun. _Please!_"

Booth chuckled, pressing a kiss on Parker's head. "Sure, bub," he agreed in a warm voice. "We'll do an early Christmas here - if Bones doesn't mind, of course," his head lifted, eyes seeking out his partner. He winced internally as he remembered that they hadn't asked her permission to do something in her house, taking up her time.

To her relief, however, Brennan was smiling as she watched them, leaning against the kitchen island, a tray of cupcakes with blue frosting on them cooling off on the counter top. "I don't mind," she reassured him. "Early Christmas Day is always fun. You should come, too."

Parker and Tri cheered, both boys squirming in their respective parents' arms and taking off to find Zan and Wyatt the moment their feet touched the ground.

Rosalie, realizing she was still holding the bags she was considering earlier, sighed. "I'm gonna put in the last of my things in here," she held up the bag she'd chosen with Brennan's help. Hearing the sound of guitar drifting down from the second floor, which would be inexplicably louder once she was up in her room right next door to Wyatt's, she sighed. "Can you tell Wyatt to not play his music so loudly? It's annoying me."

And with that, she spun on her heel and sashayed her way out of the kitchen.

Booth chuckled, shaking his head. His eyes turned to Brennan, who was chatting with Sylvia about their complicated Christmas plans. Booth wasn't entirely sure if he understood it all, but he didn't need to pry into their vacation plans.

A loud guitar riff broke through the sound of Brennan's voice, the three little boys' laughter and the soft background noise of the TV in the living room turned on to an animated Christmas movie for children.

Brennan exhaled loudly, glaring up at the ceiling when the sound of Rosalie yelling angrily immediately followed the loud noise. "Could you help me put the chicken in the oven, Sylvia?" she asked, keeping a polite tone despite the headache throbbing in her head. "I need to stop my kids from killing each other."

Sylvia laughed. "Sure, no problem," she assured Brennan. "I'm almost done here, so after I put this in and clear up the dishes I'm going to head home…Unless you need me to stay for anything else…?"

Brennan shook her head, offering the woman a smile. "No, that's fine, Sylvia. Thank you," she nodded once and walked past the island. Booth followed her, waving goodbye at Sylvia. "You're still okay with dating a mother of two teenagers?" she teased him, looking at him sideways.

Booth grinned, slinging an arm around her waist. "Hey, if anything, it makes for amusing arguments," he pointed out, causing her to roll her eyes.

They entered the living room, where the sound of the music was stronger, louder. "Wyatt!" Brennan called out, irritated, stalking over to the foot of the stairs so he could hear her better. "Would you tone it down up there!"

"Ugh, thank you!" Rosalie screamed from her room, glad that her mother was at least on her side.

Wyatt, who was in his room, on the electric guitar he'd gotten for his birthday last year (a gift from Angela, who was pretty cool in his opinion), sighed, annoyed by both his mother and his sister. "Mom!" he whined. "_Hold on!_ Can't you tell I'm rocking out here!"

He was finally able to play the entire song 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' on his guitar, and he was proud of it. He was even thinking of starting his own band, but the only people he knew who were interested in his kind of music was Chad, his friend from soccer, but Chad couldn't play a musical instrument to save his life. _Tough_, Wyatt sighed.

Rosalie stormed out of her room, going over to the stairs to look over the railing at her mother. "Mom, make him stop," she growled out, frustrated beyond belief. "I'm thirteen and I have a migraine - it's not normal."

Brennan scowled at nothing in particular, the throbbing in her head increasing exponentially. "Wyatt Ephraim Brennan, if you don't stop that right now, I'm gonna smash that guitar to pieces!" she yelled up.

In two seconds flat, the music stopped.

Rosalie grinned, relieved. "Thank you," she said to Brennan graciously, before turning to head back into her room.

She passed a disgruntled Wyatt along the way, who scowled at her as she slammed the door in his face.

Wyatt hurried down the stairs to confront his mother. "Mom, it's not fair," he complained. "Oh, hey, Booth," he greeted Brennan's partner slash secret boyfriend in a surprised tone. "When did you get here?"

"Oh, just…A few hours ago," Booth replied, an amused smile playing on his lips as he clapped the oldest of Brennan's sons on the back.

Brennan glared at Wyatt, "And you'd know that if you bothered coming out of your room every once in a while."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "I can't do anything out here," he pointed out.

"You can use the computer," Brennan pointed out. As a general rule, none of her kids had a computer in their own rooms. Rosalie and Wyatt both had received individual laptops from her for their thirteenth birthday, but those had come with a strict order that the laptops stayed either in the study or in the living room.

Wyatt scoffed, "I can't get any work done out here. If I wanted to use the computer, I'd go to the study room."

Brennan sighed. "Whatever," she shook her head. "Just…No more loud rock music, okay? Your sister's giving me grief and Shark Bait still hasn't stopped shaking from the last time you 'rocked out' in your room."

Wyatt couldn't help but crack a small smile at that. His mother didn't normally make jokes but when she did, it normally caught others off guard. "I need to practice," he insisted, smile slipping off his face. "How am I going to get any better at my music if I don't practice. You said it so yourself - practice makes perfect."

Brennan nodded, "That's true…" She bit her lip, considering. Eyeing her oldest son, she could see the determination written across his face. "And you still want to create a band?"

"You're going to be in a band?" Booth asked, perking up.

Wyatt nodded. "Yeah, that's the plan," he answered. "If I can find others, I mean. Uh, there's a guy I know who's good on the keyboard, but other than that…"

Booth nodded, giving Wyatt a sympathetic look. "Keep looking, you've got time," he teased. Wyatt chuckled along with him.

Brennan sighed, crossing her arms across her chest. "Tell you what - if you can form a band, and you're really invested in this…Then I will rent you space to practice."

Wyatt's eyes grew wide. "No way!" he breathed. "You're gonna help me out? What, like a garage or something?"

Brennan frowned. "What? Why would you want to play in a garage?" she asked, eyebrows drawing together in confusion as images of dirty, grease-covered floors and small spaces with cars parked in them came to mind. "I was thinking of a studio, of course."

Wyatt's eyes grew even larger, an a small squeak escaped his lips. Clearing his throat, he warned both adults, "That didn't happen." Getting back to his mother's offer, he quickly threw his arms around Brennan. "That'd be so cool!" he admitted. "You're really going to do that for me?"

Brennan looked distinctly upset as she pulled away from Wyatt's embrace enough to look him in the eyes. "Of course I would," she said earnestly. "Wyatt…You know I'd support you and your interests. If you're serious about this, I'd be there for you. You know that, right?"

Wyatt nodded, a huge smile on his face. "Yeah, sure," he replied. Seeing that his answer didn't reassure her, he shrugged, "I mean, I know that, mom. It's just, you know, I didn't think you'd really care about all this stuff."

Brennan frowned at him. "If I didn't care, I wouldn't have paid for your music lessons," she pointed out.

He gave her a small smile, a faint replica of the huge, goofy ones he used to wear when he was younger. "I guess. It's just, you know, when I was a kid, you didn't really support my goals," he reminded her. "Remember? I was six, and I had a life plan all figured out."

Brennan's confused expression smoothed out to an amused one, and she wrapped her arms around Wyatt's shoulders, chuckling warmly. "Ah, I was just being realistic, Wyatt," she soothed. "You wanted to build a volcano big enough to melt down the entire United States of America, then fly to the moon to build Wyattsville…I just didn't want you to get your hopes up."

Wyatt rolled his eyes, then gave Brennan the first real smile she'd seen in a long time - not a smirk, or a half-smile or one of those 'I'm a teenager now and far too cool for anything other than music and Abby' not-really-there grins, but a real, genuine smile.

" Well, I appreciate it. The Wyattsville thing, and the studio thing," he nodded. "Really. Thanks." He kissed her once on the cheek and left to run up the stairs to his room.

"Okay, but don't forget your homework!" Brennan called out to him as he left.

"It's Christmas!"

"Not yet, it's not," she corrected him. "And you still have school tomorrow. Homework!"

Booth immediately pulled Brennan in for a kiss, fingers splayed on her hips. "Cool mom," he complimented her once their lips parted from each other.

She smiled shyly up at him, "Really?"

He nodded, "Mm-hmm. That was nice of you - to offer to rent him studio space."

Brennan shrugged. "He has to keep up good grades and not slip up on his extra-curricular activities," she said to downplay her gesture. "But I meant what I said to him."

He chuckled, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, like I said, cool mom," he reiterated. "Most parents just kinda tolerate it. I know _my_ mom wouldn't have rented me any kind of space for music when I was younger." The fact that they couldn't afford it, even if it was a dingy little garage in the middle of nowhere, or the fact that his dad would've thrown a fit even if they did managed to scrounge up enough cash for it had nothing to do with it whatsoever.

With his words, a sudden sadness had crossed his features, his smile slipping into a frown.

Brennan gazed at him, wonderingly. He had never talked about his family, not really. He talked fondly of his grandfather, and of an aunt he used to spend time with some summers when he was a child. He'd recount various adventures he'd have with his younger brother Jared when they were kids, but there was rarely anything substantial. Just funny little stories of happy memories.

She'd sensed the darkness in him, the darkness in his past, the way only someone who had a matching darkness in them could. But with that darkness, came understanding - she knew that if he didn't talk about it, it meant that he wasn't ready to.

Brennan could empathize, so she didn't ask. She pretended she didn't know.

Now, as he stared at an invisible spot on her shoulder, his eyebrows scrunched together and a sad expression on his face as he swayed their bodies slowly together from side to side, Brennan raised one hand, cupping his cheek gently.

That seemed to break him out of his spell.

Booth raised his gaze, eyes meeting hers. A forced smile flickered across his lips. "I'm fine," he answered her unasked question.

Brennan clearly didn't believe that, but like countless times before, she didn't ask. She simply leaned in closer to him and pressed her lips against his, their kiss searing, filled with sadness and reminiscence and the understanding of the gravity of 'right now'.

"Tell me about your Christmas plans," Booth urged in a soft voice as they finally pulled away, lured by the children's laughter.

They walked, both of them with an arm around the other's waist, back towards the living room to join the little ones.

"Well, we're going to leave on December twenty-third," Brennan informed him. "We're going back to Chicago first."

Booth looked at her in confusion. "Chicago? Why?"

Brennan gave him a wry grin. "Wesley," she said simply. "Every year, Wes' parents insist that Rosalie and Wyatt go to their house for Christmas. We arrive a few days beforehand, we have dinner prepared by their in-house chef, then we attend their Christmas party with all their rich friends and distant relatives."

Booth made a face at the sound of their plans. "Sounds…" he trailed off, unable to find the right word.

"Horrific?" Brennan supplied. "Yes, it is. But it's not something we can ever get out of."

Booth frowned at her. "Why not? It's not like they have any rights over Rose and Wyatt, right? You have full custody?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do," she answered firmly. "But, to them, my debt isn't paid."

"Debt?"

"When I got pregnant with the twins, you know that I stayed with Wes and his family at their estate until I graduated high school, right?" she reminded him. Booth nodded, remembering the things she had told him when she'd explained to him about her past. He scowled at the memory of her telling him she'd been 'engaged' to Wes, even if it was only for show for his strict parents. "Well, to them, not only had I sullied their name by getting pregnant with their son's children, but I'd also brought shame somehow by running away after everything they'd done for me."

Booth scoffed. "That's ridiculous!" he said immediately, taking Brennan's side.

Brennan laughed, the two of them sinking down on the couch, keeping a watchful eye on the three boys sitting on the floor a few feet away from the TV, watching an animated Christmas film.

"Thank you for saying that, Booth, but it's true," she sighed. "They paid for everything - the rest of my high school education, everything I needed during my pregnancy, the labor, whatever the twins needed while we were living there. I managed to attend Northwestern with a scholarship and a financial aid for mothers, but I didn't have much money for myself or the twins. Wes stepped in, telling his parents that if I needed help, I was going to get it."

"Did you? Ask for help?"

Brennan nodded, looking ashamed. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "Look, I'm not proud of it, but I was young, I had two small children and I was in college…It just wasn't a very feasible thing for me to have done that all on my own."

"Hey," he said gently, taking her hand and squeezing her hand reassuringly. "There's no shame in asking for help when you need it, Bones."

She sighed. "I guess," she said glumly. "I just wish I didn't have to depend on anyone else to care for my own children, you know? If it wasn't for Wes and his help…" she shook her head.

Wes had really stepped up, at least financially, for her and the twins. She wasn't eligible to stay in a college dorm because of Rosalie and Wyatt, so she had to get her own place to stay. Wes had given her full use of one of the apartments his father owned in Chicago, close to Northwestern campus.

He had paid child support every month, giving her way too much to not only support the twins but herself as well. He'd hired a full-time, live-in nanny/housekeeper, a stern-looking woman by the name of 'Greta', whom she'd had with her for years. With Greta's help, Brennan was able to go to classes without having to worry about childcare, and later on, when she had to go on digs for several weeks or even months, she didn't have to worry about the children because Greta was there and Brennan was always able to communicate long-distance with the kids.

The child support and help hadn't stopped when she'd started to date Christian and it hadn't stopped when she'd given birth to Zan and Tri. Wes hadn't been particularly upset by their presence, and had even been supportive of her long-distance. When she had been overwhelmed by financial issues, Wes had loaned her money so she could support Zan and Tri through a couple of years.

When Brennan had taken her position at the Jeffersonian, having finally made a name for herself in her field, she'd been offered a hefty salary.

The first thing she did was take the time to pay off all her student loans.

Then, come next paycheck, she'd paid off every cent Wes and his parents had ever given to her for the twins, for the two little boys and for herself - Wes refused to take anything back for child support for the twins, but she'd paid back everything else, including the money they'd had to have paid Greta.

Once she'd had a balanced financial situation, recently thanks in partial to the book she'd published, Greta had been dismissed, Sylvia had been hired of Brennan's own accord (she would've just kept Greta but the woman was far too strict and would criticize everything and everyone, including Brennan - it had been like living with Wes' parents all over again…Besides, keeping Greta would've been like admitting to Wes' parents that they had made a better choice than her, and it was something that Brennan knew they would forever hang over her head; after all, they still hadn't forgiven her for 'scamming' them out of a place to stay while she was pregnant and throughout the remainder of her high school days, then running out on them and taking the twins with her. The Davenports apparently held grudges for very long periods of time), and all the money she'd borrowed from Wes and his family was paid back in full, with interest.

Wes still sent child support though she didn't need it, but they'd both agreed to put the money aside in Rosalie's and Wyatt's trust funds for when they were older.

"I've paid back everything," she continued telling Booth the story of her past with the Davenports. "But they insisted that if it hadn't been for them taking me in, helping me get emancipated from the state and letting me stay under their roof, my whole life would be in ruins."

Booth scowled darkly at that. "That's out of line," he defended her. "They shouldn't have said that. See, there's a reason why I hate all those snooty, hoity-toity rich people. And what they're doing is blackmailing you!"

Brennan shook her head, bringing their entwined fingers up to press a kiss to the back of her hand. "Thank you for being so defensive of me, Booth," she chuckled. "But, really, they're right. My life wouldn't have turned out the way it had if it hadn't been for their help. Besides…They see Rose and Wyatt, their only grandchildren so far, once every year. Even if it's not a very pleasant experience, it's the least I can do for them."

Booth sighed, conceding. "I guess that's fair," he reluctantly agreed. He wasn't a big fan of unpaid debts, either. Besides, even if he didn't agree, he had no say in Brennan's family life. It was far too early on in their relationship for him to have an active part in decision making and stuff like that. "So, after the Christmas party, you guys head out to Mount Trembling?"

Brennan shot him a look. "_Mont-Tremblant_," she corrected him, causing him to bite back a grin. "And, yes. We'll be leaving for the ski resort right after the party."

Booth reclined back against the couch, his back against the soft, cushioned arm rest, half lying down. He pulled Brennan against him, letting her sit up in between his legs, his arms around her and her back pressed to his chest. "I'm gonna miss you this Christmas," he murmured softly, his chin dropping to her shoulder.

"It's only two weeks," she replied, her voice equally soft, her hands rubbing up and down his arms wrapped around her.

Booth hummed, turning his head slightly so that his nose was buried in between silky locks of dark brown curls. "I'm still going to miss you," he insisted stubbornly.

A soft sigh escaped Brennan's lips and she fell silent, just enjoying the warmth of having Booth hugging her like that. Her gaze riveted on the three little boys watching Rudolph on screen, occasionally whispering to one another and giggling the way little boys do.

Finally, after a few minutes of silence, she said, loud enough for only Booth to hear, "I'm going to miss you, too."

Booth smiled. He didn't move his face, nose and lips still pressed to her sweet smelling hair, and he didn't speak to acknowledge her words. The only sign that he had heard was the tightening of his arms around her waist, drawing her closer to him.

BBBBBBB

_December 17, 2005 (Early Christmas Eve)_.

It was Saturday morning, and Booth and Parker were on their way to Brennan's apartment for their 'early Christmas day'.

Booth had picked Parker up after school the day before, and they'd had some quality father-son bonding time, just the two of them. Not that he didn't _love_ spending time with Brennan and her mini-Brennans, because he did, but he missed spending time with Parker alone.

They'd gone to Sid's, built snowmen and had a fun game of laser tag in Booth's living room before settling in with pizza and hot chocolate for dinner (they weren't going to tell Rebecca this, of course. She was still incredibly upset about Parker knowing Santa wasn't real, and she was definitely upset that Parker was so excited about this 'early Christmas day' thing).

_Booth pulled up in front of the two-story house that Rebecca lived in, internally chanting small pep talks to himself. He knew that she would have something new to blame him for - she always had something to blame him for._

_It had been four years since Parker's birth, even longer since his conception, and she still hadn't forgiven him for whatever sin he'd committed. It wasn't like she'd ever seen the demons in him, not really. His gambling addiction was pretty much over when they'd met - he'd gone to meetings, carried his poker chip around and had religiously started avoiding anything to do with betting - and he had been well on his way up to being Special Agent._

_Still, their relationship had been rocky when the honeymoon phase had passed and by the time it ended, she was full on resenting him for 'forcing' her to be a mother since she was so career-driven to have ever made that decision of her own will._

_It was silly, but a part of him had hoped that as time passed, she'd let go of all that animosity, especially considering how beautifully wonderful Parker was. He had no idea why she was so irritated with him all the time, but his recent relationship with Brennan, and the subsequent entanglements he had with her home life didn't sit right with Rebecca._

_Bracing himself for an argument much like the one they'd had the last time he'd seen her, he rang the doorbell._

_He waited well over two minutes before she answered the door, the cream-painted wood swinging open almost violently. Rebecca stood on the other side of the threshold, glaring angrily at him. "What!" she snapped._

_Booth sighed silently while leveling her with a firm look of his own. "What do you mean 'what'? Rebecca, it's my time with Parker, remember?"_

_Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I remembered," she sneered, reluctantly stepping aside to let him into the house. She didn't close the door and didn't move from where she stood, so he assumed they'd be continuing their 'nice discussion' right there in front of the door. "Then _my_ son started talking my ear off about some Christmas thing your girlfriend's planning."_

_Booth exhaled loudly. "Are we seriously getting into this?" he asked incredulously. "Becca, why does it bother you so much that my girlfriend and my son don't hate each other?"_

_She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not that I don't like that she's nice to him - that part I'm grateful for," she admitted grudgingly. "But I just don't like that they're spending so much time together."_

"_Well, she's an important part of my life - professionally and personally," he pointed out. "They would've met eventually."_

_Rebecca shook her head. "It doesn't mean that they have to be so close, Seeley!" she insisted, her voice rising a pitch. "Look, I'm glad that things are working out so well for you."_

Yeah, you sure sound like you're glad for me_, Booth commented sarcastically in his mind._

"_But you have to think of Parker here!"_

_Anger rose in his chest at her accusation. "So, what, you think that just because I chose to introduce my girlfriend to my son - something you've done with countless boyfriends, by the way - that I'm somehow neglecting my son?" he demanded, seething. "How the hell is that fair, Rebecca?"_

"_You didn't even ask him if he wanted to meet her!"_

"_I told him about her weeks before they met!" he countered unnecessarily. Despite not having to do such a thing, he'd discussed his complicated relationship with Brennan with Rebecca before he'd ever told Parker anything about her. "He told me he wanted to meet her."_

"_And then all this secrecy…It's just confusing for a little boy like him," Rebecca carried on as though she hadn't heard him speak. "Not to mention the fact that she has so much baggage attached."_

_Booth glared at her, hands on his hips. "Look, Parker doesn't have a problem with Bones or her kids, okay!" he stated firmly. "If he did, he'd tell me. I assure him every time that if he feels uncomfortable about anything, he can tell me and I won't get mad. He understands me, so it baffles me a little that a woman thirty years his senior can't!"_

_Rebecca practically rose three inches taller in anger, steam coming out of her ears. "Excuse me!" she thundered._

_Like she did to him before, he ignored her. "And, by the way, he enjoys spending time with Bones and her kids. I'm there with him when he's playing with the boys - he likes it there, okay? If he doesn't, I'll be the first to take him away from there. He's my first priority, I'd think you'd know that by now," he growled out._

_Something flashed in her eyes, a look crossing across her face, that he caught with sniper reflexes. "Oh, are you kidding me?" he shook his head, bemused, incredulous and annoyed all at the same time. "You're jealous? That's it?"_

"_No, that's not it!" Rebecca snapped at him viciously. "I already told you my concerns-"_

"_-And they're bull," he interrupted her. "Look, Becca, I can't deal with your mood swings, okay? If the situation was reversed, you'd have chewed me out for even trying to interfere with your personal life and Parker being happy. I don't know why it's different when it's with me."_

"_Daddy!"_

_Both Rebecca and Booth turned to see Parker bounding down the steps as fast as he could, a huge grin on his face._

"_Hey, bub, you ready to go?" Booth asked Parker, his tone changing into one of faked cheeriness, barely concealed anger boiling underneath the surface._

_Parker nodded his head enthusiastically. "Yep! I gots all my stuff all packed up," he told his father proudly, pointing at the living room where his backpack and overnight bag lay side by side, his jacket slung over the Spiderman backpack._

"_Okay, good, buddy," Booth praised. "Why don't you put on your jacket and go get your stuff, huh? Then we can go."_

_Parker bounced on the balls of his feet. "Are we gonna see Zan and Tri today?" he asked his father eagerly. He didn't go to the same school as the two boys, and he only got to see them once every two weeks or so - it had only been a few meetings so far though the boys did send short letters and exchange phone calls every so often - so whenever he could see them, he would get really excited._

_A dark look crossed Rebecca's features and Booth shot her a warning glare. "Not today, bub," he said apologetically to his son, whose face immediately fell. "But, hey, I thought we could have a guy's night tonight, huh? Tomorrow we'll go over to Bones' house for our Early Christmas Day."_

_Parker beamed happily back at his father, eager now for both the guys' night (because his daddy always had the best guys' nights ever) and the Early Christmas thing. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but anything to do with Christmas had to be good, even if Santa wasn't real._

Just remember Saint Nicholas_, he reminded himself._

"_Okay, daddy," he agreed. "Be right back, okay? Don't move!"_

_He turned and ran straight for the living room, prompting his mother to call out, "Don't run in the house, Parker!"_

_Parker slowed to a walk, sulking with his back to his parents. _Bones never yells when we run in _her_ house_, he pouted internally._

_Once Parker was out of earshot, Booth swiveled back to face Rebecca. She, apparently, wasn't done with their 'discussion', either, because she immediately spoke, not giving Booth a chance. "Do you know what your precious girlfriend told my son, Seeley Booth?" she hissed. "She told him there's no Santa."_

"_I know," he nodded, his temper dialing down a notch. He was still fifty-fifty on what had went down regarding the whole Santa/Saint Nicholas deal, but he didn't think there was any lasting damage. Parker was mostly curious about Saint Nicholas, and curious about the reasons why parents told kids about Santa, and the real story that happened after the kids went to bed and 'Santa' came to the house. "But he's fine, isn't he?"_

_Rebecca hesitated for one moment. "That's not the point."_

"_Yes, it is," Booth argued in a low hiss. "He's fine, and he knows about Saint Nicholas - the Santa thing was something that he'd have to learn about sooner or later…Becks, I won't say that I wasn't shocked when it happened, but he just learned about something all kids would sooner than we expected. Some kids do, even without Temperance Brennan's help."_

_Rebecca scowled at him, "I don't like it, okay? What next? She's going to be giving him the birds and the bees talk?"_

_Booth pulled a face at her. "What? Jeez, no, okay? Look, it's _Santa_. It's not that big of a deal. She didn't commit a crime. She just told the truth," he defended Brennan. "And it didn't turn out to be a bad thing, either, since he's pretty psyched about the whole Saint Nicholas thing."_

_It was true, too. He'd learned from Brennan that Saint Nicholas' tomb was still around - she'd gone on an excited rant about the bones being preserved so well that they were intact even after all this time - and he, too, had grew more and more curious about it._

"_She didn't have the right to tell him," Rebecca insisted. "He could've been seriously upset."_

"_It's Santa," he pointed out again. "Not the end of the world, Becks."_

"_Still."_

_She stood there, glaring at him with all the anger of an adolescent thirteen year old girl, stubbornly defying a parent's order._

_Booth sighed, shaking his head and running a hand through his spiked hair. He jumped, startled, when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his legs. Looking down, he saw the matching charm smile that his son had inherited from him._

_Just one look at that adorable face of his, and Booth's frustration and tension started to dissipate. "Hey, bub, good to go?" he asked, eyeing the coat Parker had put on and the sneakers on his feet._

_Parker nodded, backpack slung over his shoulders. Booth reached down, grabbing the overnight bag in one hand and enveloping Parker's small hand in his much larger one. "Okay, then, let's go. Say bye to your mommy," he instructed._

_Parker looked to Rebecca and waved. "Bye, mommy," he grinned cutely. "See you Monday."_

_Rebecca chuckled slightly, her voice as strained as her smile when she spoke next. "Okay, honey," she bent down to press a kiss to Parker's forehead. "Have fun with your dad."_

_As Booth and Parker were leaving, Rebecca hissed warningly to Booth, "Just one thing that goes wrong, Seeley…"_

_Booth, in turn, glared right back at her. "You know what? We'll talk when you're ready to behave like an adult," he'd replied in a voice much too low for Parker to catch_.

He had managed to put aside all thoughts on Rebecca's unfair attitude towards Brennan while Parker had been awake, focusing instead on keeping his son entertained and continuing his pursuit to build a strong father-son relationship between the two of them.

When Parker had fallen asleep, though…Booth had been so worked up over the arguments he'd been having with Rebecca lately that he hadn't gotten much sleep at all.

It wasn't even just Brennan and her kids, either. If that was the sole problem, Booth would sit down with Rebecca and really work things out, even if all of her anger was based on jealousy and unfair rules that she insisted on. Their discord, however, had started _far_ before he'd even met Brennan, and it was escalating more and more until it was starting to get stifling for him.

Despite having so much to deal with regarding Rebecca, Booth decided that this weekend, he wasn't going to get distracted with his problems. Parker had been really upset about not getting to spend Christmas in DC. He had always been upset about spending so little time with Booth on Christmas day, and now he was doubly upset that he couldn't get to spend it with his new friends and daddy's partner.

They were making it up to him, crashing on Brennan's 'mock Christmas' with her family. He wasn't going to screw up this Early Christmas Eve/Day being moody and sulking over his problems. He was going to enjoy the time he had with his son this weekend, and enjoy the time he had with his gorgeous girlfriend and her beautiful family.

Now, as Booth drove to Brennan's apartment, Parker spoke up from the backseat. Booth was surprised to hear him when he called out, "Daddy?" He had been quiet the whole ride over, and they were just now pulling into Brennan's apartment parking space.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Is it okay if we put cookies and milk for Santa on Christmas eve? Even if he's not real?" Parker asked tentatively.

Booth smiled fondly as he parked the car and turned off the engine, turning around in his seat to look at his son. They would usually spend Christmas eve and the beginning of Christmas day together, and putting out cookies and milk for 'Santa' had always been a tradition.

"Sure, buddy," he assured Parker. Just because he now knew that Santa wasn't real didn't mean that childhood traditions like these should stop. "I think that's a great idea."

Just as Booth was unbuckling Parker from his child safety seat, Parker tilted his head and gave Booth an inquisitive look. "Daddy, if there's no Santa…Who eats da cookies?"

Booth flashed a sheepish grin Parker's way. "Sorry, bub," he shrugged. "Usually daddy eats them."

Parker gasped in outrage. "Daddy!" he complained.

Booth chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry," he apologized. "How about this year, I'll wait until the morning and we'll split the cookies?"

Parker considered for a moment before nodding. "Okay, daddy, we'll do that," he agreed.

Booth grinned, helping Parker out of the SUV and grabbing both their overnight bags before shutting the door behind him.

Wyatt answered the door, earphones stuck in each year. "Hey, man," Wyatt greeted Booth easily, holding out a fist for his trademark greeting.

Booth grinned and bumped fists with him, Parker eagerly following suit. "Hey, little man," Wyatt flashed a crooked smile Parker's way. "Come on, Zan and Tri are waiting for you."

When Wyatt led them past the foyer, Booth was surprised, not just at the amount of activity that seemed to be going on in the house but by how much things had changed.

In less than a week since he'd last stepped foot into the house, things had definitely taken a Christmassy turn.

There were now lights strung everywhere, from the foyer to the staircase, to the arched entrance leading to the living room to the mantel. There was a huge, green Christmas tree next to the fireplace, which was roaring with a nice fire. There were little trinkets here and there - a clay Santa figurine stood on the table in the entryway, smiling and holding a bag of goodies, cute little wooden reindeers were placed sporadically in several different locations in the living room, and God knew what else.

"Whoa, Bones, you went all out," Booth complimented.

Brennan grinned from her perch on one of the two armchairs next to the fireplace. "Yeah, it's a tradition to decorate the living room," she murmured, a soft smile on her face as she looked around her. "My parents loved it so I thought, 'why not'."

"We do it every year," Rosalie informed the two Booth boys, from where she sat at the couch, flicking through channels to find something non-Christmas related to watch. Parker had ran straight for Zan and Tri, who were on the floor, rifling through boxes of Christmas ornaments.

"I hope you don't mind, Booth," Brennan said, nodding towards the ornaments. "Zan and Tri wanted to wait until Parker was here to decorate the tree."

Booth, sitting at the ottoman barely a foot away from the armchair Brennan was sitting on, shook his head. "I don't mind," he assured her. "Now gimme a kiss."

Brennan laughed, leaning forward in her seat to give him a proper kiss hello. She laughed against his lips when his hands went to her waist and jerked her playfully forward, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck as they exchanged short, tender caresses on the mouth.

"Guys," Wyatt's voice called out, his disgusted tone prompting them to break their kiss. Booth still kept his hands on her waist, and Brennan's arms were still around his neck, their cheeks pressed together as they smiled over at Wyatt. "I'm happy you're happy, but for us _all_ to be happy, you need to stop doing that."

Brennan stared at her son, confused. "I didn't understand any of that, and I'm a genius," she said blankly.

Booth, rolling his eyes despite the huge smile spread across his lips, pulled away reluctantly from Brennan. "I think he means he doesn't want to see his mother necking in the living room, Bones," he explained, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head and standing up. "C'mon, let's get started on that tree of yours," he held out his hands, which she took without hesitation, and pulled her up to her feet.

BBBBBBB

"So what's next?" Booth asked, clapping his hands together.

The Christmas tree had been decorated, with ornaments that ranged as far back as Rosalie's and Wyatt's first homemade ornaments way back when, and newly bought ones that had been bought with Booth and Parker in mind - Brennan had been a little apprehensive about that, since it felt far too intimate, far too 'welcome with arms wide open' to her, but Zan had insisted quite stubbornly and when Rosalie had seen a red Corvette ornament, she'd insisted they get that for Booth…It had just escalated from there. Wyatt had even found two socks matching the ones they already had on their fireplace, monogramming them quickly with 'Booth' and 'Parker'.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy having Booth and Parker around. She trusted Booth immensely, and he was beginning to be very important to her. And Parker was such a delightful, lovely child. She'd taken to him instantly. But it felt like, at least to her, things were moving too fast. She wasn't sure if it was because Booth was so charming or because he had a kid around her little ones' age himself, but she had never seen all four of her children get attached to any of the rare boyfriends she'd introduced to them. With Booth, it just seemed effortless the way he fit into their lives, into _her_ life.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that, exactly.

Rosalie, Wyatt, Zan and Tri, on the other hand, seemed like they already considered Booth family. It unnerved her to no end, yet she felt a certain sense of joy whenever she witnessed one of their 'family moments'.

For right now, things were just too confusing for her to really delve into. She decided to push it all aside and just enjoy the weekend the way it was meant to, especially since Parker had seemed inexplicably upset that he was to miss out on Christmas eve and morning with the Brennan family unit.

"Presents?" Parker asked in an adorable hopeful tone, a bright smile on his face.

Wyatt laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry, little man," he said with a smile. "Not until Early Christmas morning."

Parker's shoulders drooped a little. "Oh," he said disappointedly. The fun he'd been having, however, cheered him up - surely, since it was early Christmas eve, there was some special thing they could do. _Daddy said we can build snowmen again today_, he remembered happily. "So what now?"

"Well," Brennan tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We normally make chocolate crinkles and red velvet cake on Early Christmas Eve."

"Then, later, we have a huge slumber party at the end of the day," Rosalie filled in for Brennan. "We just stay up as long as we can in the living room, watching Christmas movies and eating the cookies and the cake, and whatever snacks…We try to stay up until Early Christmas Day rolls around."

Booth nodded, smiling. "That sounds fun," he complimented. Normally, he just ended up playing lots of games during the short time he had with Parker Christmas eve and morning. They didn't have time to do elaborate things, but they did make use of the time they had to the full potential.

"What happens Early Christmas mornin'?" Parker asked, snuggled in Brennan's lap, clutching a surprisingly mellow Baby on his lap.

Wyatt, from his spot on the floor, slightly exhausted from having play wrestled all three little boys for a full thirty minutes earlier, spoke up. "We wake up, eat cereal with green and red M&Ms in them," he grinned. It was the only time of year Brennan allowed them to eat unhealthy cereal, but only because Brennan's parents had done the same thing with her and Russ when they were around.

Booth did little to conceal his surprise at that. "Really?"

Brennan made a face at him. "Yes," she said defensively, then childishly stuck her tongue out at him. "I can be fun."

Booth chuckled, petting Sammy the golden retriever affectionately as he laid his head on Booth's lap. "Okay, Bones," he said teasingly.

"After that we hurry down to Isolde's, the bakery a few blocks away," Rosalie interrupted their bantering, continuing where Wyatt left off. "They have the most awesome candy cane coffee there…Me and mom get those."

Wyatt scrunched up his nose at that. "I don't like it," he announced. "So me and the boys," he ruffled Zan's and Tri's hair in a brotherly gesture from where they slumped on each side of him. This caused another round of giggles and playful shoving. Parker climbed off Brennan's lap to join them, Wyatt pretending to grunt in pain at the force of Parker's weight thrown at him.

Laughing, he continued, "We get hot cocoa - peppermint for me, candy cane for them."

"Then we come back here, bake grandma's cinnamon buns," Rosalie said, bringing a nostalgic smile to Brennan's lips as she remembered baking with her mother on Christmas day year after year when she was younger. "And we make a creative gingerbread house."

"Creative?" Booth repeated, eyebrows scrunching together.

Wyatt nodded. "Last year it was a mountain lodge," he gave an example.

Booth's eyebrows shot up. "Huh."

And so they started on their Early Christmas Eve.

They had some fun in the kitchen, pretty much messing up the place with flour and sticky eggs mixed together as they got started on making some of the snacks they'd consume later during their Early Christmas Eve slumber party - the red velvet cake and the chocolate crinkles. Baking with two competitive thirteen year olds and three playful little boys all under the age of five, however, was not a simple task. Most of the time, Booth and Brennan either ran interference when things nearly got out of hand, or they joined in on the messy fun.

They managed to finally - _finally _- put in the cookies and the cake in the oven nearly two hours later, all of them wearing flour and eggshells and sugar.

Booth sagged against the fridge. "Am I the only one who's exhausted here?" he asked aloud to no one in particular.

"No!" Tri answered him loudly, sitting his little bottom on Brennan's foot and clinging onto her leg, cranky because he was tired after all that fun he'd just had.

Brennan scooped him up into her arms. "Alright, what do you say we wash up," she rubbed off some of the flour that was on his cheek, kissing his forehead. "Then we rest for a while in the living room?"

"'kay, mommy," Tri agreed with a sigh, resting his head in the crook of her neck, neck tightening around her neck as he hung onto her.

While Rosalie and Wyatt wrangled the three little boys - freshly showered and changed, since Tri had managed to get egg yolk into his hair and Parker and Zan thought it'd be funny to stuff flour down each other's clothes - into the living room for some down time and snacks before they headed out to the ice rink, Booth stayed with Brennan in the kitchen as she pulled out the freshly baked cookies.

Booth reached for one immediately, the delicious aroma of the Chocolate Crinkles even stronger than before since they were out in the open. Brennan saw, frowned and smacked his hand sharply. "Ow!" Booth complained, snatching his hand back and giving her a hurt look.

Brennan rolled her eyes, knowing he was just joking - her partner was made of things far too strong for him to seriously complain about one tiny smack on the hand. "No touching, Booth," she scolded. "These are still hot."

"I can handle it," he said, his tone defensive and boasting all at the same time.

Brennan cocked her hips to the side and placed one hand on her waist. "If you try and sneak one now, Zan and Tri might want one, and I'm pretty sure Parker will, too," she pointed out rationally.

Sighing, defeated, Booth let it go. "Fine," he eyed the yummy looking cookies in barely concealed hungry. "Is there anything that I _can_ eat?"

"There's some leftover lasagna from last night," Brennan offered.

Booth perked up slightly. "Did you make it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

Brennan nodded, frowning. "Yes," though it would be much easier to just order in takeout, she very rarely let her children eat outside food. There were the occasional trips to McDonalds or IHOP, and they would order pizza or Chinese or go out for sushi some nights just for fun. Mostly, though, either she or Sylvia would make the meals, using ingredients solely from the organic food store, and using healthy variations of recipes. She didn't want any of them to get addicted to junk food.

However, she didn't understand why Booth would ask her if she'd cooked. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him, she asked, "Why?"

Booth clapped his hands together, grinning happily. "Then I want some," he stated. At Brennan's raised eyebrow, he shrugged, "What? I like your cooking."

"Oh, you do, huh?" she teased, tamping down the warning bells at the back of her mind, telling her this was far too domesticated - she'd never invited any of her boyfriends to stay for a home cooked meal before. When Pete stayed over, it was just pizza takeout.

Booth, aching to hold her in his arms since the past few days had been mostly family-oriented, didn't miss the opportunity: he was immediately at her side, one arm slipping around her petite frame and pulling her body flushed against his, his other hand flying up to her head, fingers raking gently through her hair, causing little jolts of electricity to travel from Brennan's scalp all the way down her spine.

"Yeah, I do," he replied, his playful tone matching hers, low and warm and caressing her skin without touching. "What're you gonna do about it?"

She chuckled, shaking her head, saying over his laughter, "Booth, that doesn't even make any…"

But his lips were on hers, soft and warm and demanding but yielding all at the same time, and her words died in her throat, her fingers clutching at the material of his Offspring t-shirt.

It had been days since they'd kissed properly, just little sneaks here and there - they hadn't had a case in over a week, they'd both been busy with Christmas details and paperwork and their respective jobs at their respective workplaces. With everything going on, he hadn't spent the night since Tuesday night when Rebecca had 'played the babysitter card' with him, as he'd put it.

She had missed kissing him and now he was making it so hard to pull away - slow and languid kisses that made her want to get as close to him as possible - so she parted her lips, tongue darting out to sweep across his bottom lip, slipping past the moment his mouth parted against hers. Their tongues tangled sweetly, the kiss intensifying to an almost dizzying height.

"Bones, what's dis?" they heard, which immediately caused them to spring apart, chests heaving, faces flushed, hearts pounding with the adrenaline shooting through their systems.

Booth, swiveling to face the direction of the little voice, placed a hand over his racing heart. "Parker!" he gasped. "Jeez! How long have you been sitting there!"

Parker shrugged, sitting on his knees on the cushioned booth of the lounge area where they usually ate, his arms placed on the square table in front of him, his chocolate brown eyes fixed on the two adults. "I dunno," he replied, impassive. "Since you were kissin'."

Brennan rolled her eyes, an indulgent smile on her face. "What're you doing in here?" she asked him, moving towards where he was sitting and gently grasping his chin in her hand, playfully shaking his head from side to side.

Parker laughed at her actions. "I got bored," he told her. "Wyatt went up ta his room, and I think Tri's falling asleep on da couch…"

Brennan grinned. That didn't surprise her at all - Tri had been up most of last night, and stubbornly wouldn't fall asleep until very late (or extremely early, depending on how you looked at it). He'd spent the night with her in her room, overly excited about Early Christmas Day and their upcoming vacation just a week away - Christmas was a very excitable time for a child, apparently.

"What about Zan and Rose, buddy?"

"They're watchin' TV," he reported dutifully. "But then I gots hungry…"

"Me, too!" Booth added, turning to look at Brennan with the same pleading eyes as Parker, suddenly remembering his hunger from before that oh-so-delicious kiss of theirs had distracted him.

Brennan sighed. "Like father, like son," she teased. Walking back over to the fridge, she pulled out the leftovers of last night's lasagna.

Parker wrinkled his nose. "What's that?" he asked, not particularly excited to see the pasta dish.

"Lasagna."

"Oh."

Brennan laughed. Neither Zan nor Tri were fond of lasagna, either. She'd made them a small side of chicken fingers and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner last night.

"Do I have ta eat it?" Parker asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice in case he hurt Brennan's feelings. His dad had told him many, many times before that it wasn't nice to hurt other people's feelings. Besides, Brennan was nice and he didn't want her to cry. He just wasn't sure he wanted to eat lasagna - she normally cooked really good food, but he just wasn't sure.

Parker was placed out of his worries when Brennan reassured him, "No, you don't have to…How about I make some grilled sandwiches? Peanut butter and banana?" That was something her little boys loved to eat, and a favorite of Rose and Wyatt's since they were young, too.

Parker perked up immediately. Pops - his daddy's daddy's daddy had made it once when he visited, saying that it was Elvis' favorite sandwich. Parker had loved it even better than grilled cheese sandwich, which was also something 'Pops' had made a lot. "Elvis' sammich?"

Brennan frowned. "I…don't know what that means," she informed the four year old.

Booth stepped in before the sweet interaction turned into Parker trying to educate Brennan on Elvis and start dancing and singing - Pops had been a big fan of 'the King' and had played it non-stopped during the visit that had introduced Parker to peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

"Parker loves peanut butter and banana sandwiches, Bones," he assured her, cutting up a piece of lasagna for himself - a big piece - and placing it in the microwave to heat. "Don't cha, bub?"

Parker nodded his head enthusiastically. "It's yummy," he beamed sweetly at her. Once she had gotten out the ingredients for the simple sandwiches, Parker asked her his question once more. "What's all dis, Bones?" he turned his head to look at the cardboard box on the cushioned booth next to where he sat. Sticking a hand into the box, he picked up one of the many letters inside.

"Parks," Booth warned, moving forward to take the envelope from him in case it was something personal.

But Parker had already read the address on the red, slightly crumpled envelope before his dad had taken it from him. A bewildered expression on his face, he looked wide-eyed at Brennan. "Why do you haff Santa's mail?"

Booth did a double take, his own gaze dropping to the letter in his hands. True enough, there on the envelope, was a child's scribble.

Santa Claus

Santa's Workshopp

The Norf Pole

Brennan had to stifle her laughter at the looks on Booth's and Parker's faces. "Those are letters from some less fortunate children," she replied as she cut up some banana slices. She could see the understanding flash across Booth's face at her answer. "They wrote it to Santa."

Parker raised an eyebrow. "Da one that's not real?" he didn't sound particularly upset, since he knew that Santa was really his parents and he'd be getting presents every year anyway.

Brennan nodded, "Yes."

"Why?"

Brennan exhaled, stopping her work on the sandwiches as she contemplated her next words. Booth, who had slid into the booth opposite Parker, had placed the cardboard box on the table so that he could rifle through some of the letters.

"Well…" she said slowly, carefully. "For lucky little kids like you and Zan and Tri…Your parents are Santa. They know if you've been good or bad," Parker giggled a little at that, making both adults smile. "They know what you want or need for Christmas, and they buy you presents if they can, just because they love you."

Parker beamed - all of that sounded pretty cool, and he grew more excited at the prospect of opening up presents a week early. His dad had already told him he could open up some presents on Early Christmas morning with the others. "Right!" he cheered.

"Right," Brennan nodded. "But for those kids," she pointed at the box. "They don't have anyone to do that for them."

Parker's good mood deflated a little. "That's sad," he commented, frowning as he gazed at the box, and the few letters in his dad's hands.

"Yes, it is," Brennan agreed.

"Parker! Parker, you in here?" Rosalie's voice called out, the girl in question appearing in the kitchen just moments later. A flash of relief flashed across her pretty features as she saw the little boy. "Whoa, little dude. I turn my back for one second and you disappeared," she said, her tone gently chiding.

Parker gave her an apologetic charm smile. "I'm sorry, Rosie," he said sincerely.

Rosalie made a face at the nickname - 'Rose' she could handle. 'Mini' was even starting to grow on her, though she'd be damned before she ever let that one slip. 'Rosie', on the other hand…She chose not to say anything since Parker Booth was too cute for words, but this was a one-time deal, she promised herself. _No way in hell was the boy going to grow up thinking of her as 'Rosie'_, she decided.

"Right," she said. Noticing the cardboard box and the letters in front of Booth, her eyes sparkled slightly. "Hey…Are those the Santa letters?"

Booth, who had been reading a few of the letters, nodded before turning his head to smile at Brennan. "I didn't know you did the Dear Santa thing," he said. "I mean, you don't even believe in Santa."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I have to believe in Santa to do this?" she asked incredulously. "Besides, these are from needy children from less fortunate families." Her voice growing softer, she added, "My mother did this. She would take a few letters from the post office and she'd try and help out one or two of the kids who wrote to Santa. She made it a priority every Christmas."

Brennan could remember very clearly how determined Christine had been every year to make sure that she helped at least one family have a better Christmas than they anticipated having. She'd always stressed to Brennan and Russ how very lucky they were to have a stable home life, a stable financial situation, a roof over their heads and a loving family. Some years, she and Matthew would even take Brennan and Russ to volunteer if they could - she remembered going to children's wards and donating some of her old toys and clothes to charity foundations.

Christmas growing up had never been about presents - it had always been about giving and sharing, about being better people and helping others.

Brennan had been more than terrified of being a parent when she'd learned she was pregnant that first time, and the fear hadn't dissipated at all the second and third times, but the one thing that she'd always held on to was the lessons her parents had taught her. She tried to utilize those lessons into being a better mother, and being a giving person was part of that.

The first few years, of course, she hadn't had a lot to give. Still, she made it a habit to pick out just one letter that sang to her the most. She, Rosalie and Wyatt would sit around together, Greta bustling about in the background screaming something in German she couldn't quite catch, and they'd read the few letters Brennan had brought home from the post office. They'd pick the one that seemed as though it had come from the child needing the most help, and they'd try and help out as much as they could.

When the twins were eight, and Brennan had graduated college and was even on her way to getting her first PhD, they had started volunteering. It wasn't much, since Brennan was still incredibly busy and couldn't spare much time, but they'd pick one organization per year: be it the hospital, or an orphanage or even a homeless shelter.

Last year, they had gotten extremely lucky, metaphorically speaking, of course: Brennan had paid off all of her debts and loans, she wasn't as busy as she had been when she had been in college or when she was a grad student, she had a very high salary at the Jeffersonian and they had more money than they would ever need thanks to the successful book sales of her novel.

So, they had kicked it up a notch.

Why should they _not_ donate more to charity when they clearly had the means to?

It was something that had grated on her nerves terribly while she had lived with Wes' parents: they had treated their staff horribly and had only been 'gracious' to the poor when it would benefit their name in their society's eyes. They hadn't been very good people with good hearts, and she didn't want any of her children to grow up with attitudes like theirs just because they were fortunate enough to have access to money.

So, in an attempt to make it a fun experience, she, Rosalie and Wyatt had sat down together and made up new traditions that they would later divulge to Zan and Tri in animated voices to psych them up as well.

Starting November, Brennan and the kids would pick one day of the week, usually the weekend, to volunteer at a certain organization. Most of the time, they picked a children's hospital or ward, an orphanage or a group home. Brennan would write checks to donate money for foster children, knowing how little they had during the year and even worse during Christmas. And, of course, they picked up more Dear Santa letters - some from the post office, some from a few orphanages and group homes that Brennan was a donor to - to try and help more needy children.

She wanted the four of them to understand that Christmas might not have a very significant meaning to them - Christmas was the celebration of the birth of Christ, even though the date was all wrong, and none of them were religious - but it didn't mean that it was meaningless to others in the world.

"And you decided to carry on the tradition?" Booth guessed, his gentle tone jolting her out of her reverie.

She nodded, shrugging. "Something like that," she smiled. "Every year, I take a few of these letters, the kids and I read them and we try and help as much as we can."

"'cuz we have to help udders?" Parker questioned her in a knowing tone.

Brennan nodded. "Yes, we do," she agreed. "Because we're more fortunate than them."

"What's dat?"

"Fortunate? It means lucky."

"Oh."

Booth waved the few letters he had in his hand. "This is more than just 'a few'," he repeated her earlier words.

Brennan shrugged, placing a plate of 'Elvis sandwiches' in front of Parker. He smiled eagerly and took one, biting into it hungrily. "I've been successful these past few years, and I now have a much higher salary, a much higher amount of money I can spare to help," she said as though this was no big deal. "My parents always said that we should give to charity at least half of what we spend, especially if we can afford it."

Booth nodded, pursing his lips. "That's a good thing to do," he said, placing the letters back in the box. "When do you usually go through these?"

Rosalie answered for Brennan, "Early Christmas Eve." She reached out, grabbing a tangerine from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter and started to peel, sliding into the booth next to Parker. "We sit down together, sort out the letters, write down lists of what to get, who to get it for and which address to send it to, then we go shopping for it once Early Christmas Day is over."

Parker, eyeing the juicy fruit, tugged on her shirt sleeve, nodding at the orange fruit and giving her wide, pleading puppy dog eyes. Rosalie rolled her eyes at his attempt even as the corners of her lips tugged minimally.

Booth raised an eyebrow at her, "Then why isn't it on the itinerary of things we were gonna do today?"

Rose shrugged. "Mom figured you wouldn't want to do something like that," she said, peeling off a piece of tangerine to hand it to Parker, who, beaming widely, grabbed the fruit between two fingers and popped it in his mouth, offering her a sparkly-eyed look the whole time he chewed. Rose popped the next piece into her mouth before giving the next one to Parker without being asked.

Booth turned his head to look at Brennan, both eyebrows lifted this time. Brennan shrugged, blushing slightly. "It's supposed to be a fun day," she pointed out. "I don't think doing Christmas chores with us constitutes as 'fun'."

"Aw, it's fun, Bones," he assured her, standing up and wrapping his arms around her from behind, his lips ghosting over her neck as he spoke next. "I think it's sweet what you're doing, and it's a good idea."

Brennan, leaning into his embrace, turned skeptical eyes on him.

To reassure her, Booth looked to his son, who was being offered the last piece of tangerine, and asked, "Bub, you wanna help Bones and Mini answering Santa's letters?"

And even though he knew that Santa wasn't real, four year old Parker received the warmest, happiest sort of thrill at the question. "Yeah!" he agreed instantly, brown eyes lighting up and spine straighter than before. "Can we, Bones? Please?"

Brennan laughed at his eagerness, unsure if he understood what he would really be doing. It was far less glamorous than he thought, she was sure of it.

Neither Zan nor Tri enjoyed answering the letters, mostly because it wasn't anything but reading and making lists. Both of her little boys had learned to read, though they weren't all that great at it yet, but these letters had spelling errors and illegible handwriting done by mostly children. It made things a whole lot harder for them to read. Besides, even if she read to them out loud, they would still get restless after a while.

They were far more interested in _shopping_ for the needy than they were in reading their words.

"Okay," she gave in. She wasn't going to stop him from helping out if he wanted. After all, that was the whole point, wasn't it? To be gracious to others? If Parker was going to learn from the lesson that Christine Brennan had tried to teach so many years ago, who was she to complain? "You can help. C'mon, let's get Wyatt, Zan and Tri and get started."

Rosalie stepped out of the booth so that Parker could hop out. Brennan led Parker by the hand towards the living room to get the others. Booth was left alone with Rosalie - he sat awkwardly on one end of the table while she stared at him unabashedly, peeling away at another tangerine.

Giving her a small smile, Booth tried not to show just how relieved he was when the microwave timer beeped, giving him something to do. He slid out from the booth and walked towards the microwave, grabbing an oven mitten and sliding it on before grabbing the plate inside.

"How's your first Early Christmas Eve going?" Rosalie asked him as he returned to the table.

Booth, who had been sweeping some of the letters aside so that none of them would get dirty accidentally lest he spilled food on them or something, blinked several times before looking up at Rose. "It's going good," he admitted. "I didn't know what to expect when I came here…"

"Afraid it wouldn't be Christmassy enough for you?" her sharp cobalt eyes piercing through him, assessing him the same way her mother would assess bones, narrowed as though he had offended her somehow.

Booth hastened to assure her, "No, no…That's not what I meant at all. I mean, yeah, it is very Christmassy, but I wasn't having doubts about that…" It was strange that she could make him feel like a fish out of water sometimes.

Brennan had told him, the night he'd met Rosalie for the first time, that she was like that with everyone - heavily distrustful, taking offense in the simplest things, always a very complicated girl. She 'guarded her heart', Brennan had said. Booth could understand that, to some extent - even if she was any normal, average thirteen year old girl, she would still be a teenager, and she would still be a complicated mess right about now - but it still made him a tad uneasy every time he got things wrong with her.

It always felt like Rosalie was trying to test him, to see if he would impress her somehow, and when she'd flicker her eyes over him, a small frown on her lips, he'd feel as though he failed the test somehow.

And it was clear to see that Rosalie had the tightest relationship with Brennan. The two were more like best friends than parent/child.

Booth didn't want to be the kind of boyfriend who sought to create some sort of friendship with the children to gain the mother's approval, but he felt like he had to step up his game concerning Rose.

He wanted to get along with Brennan's family - he and his partner were two people who valued their children more than anything in the world, so he knew the importance of him being able to have a good relationship with the four mini Brennans. It was just harder with Rosalie, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try his hardest.

"Then what _did_ you mean?" Rose asked, not looking at all happy with him at the moment.

Booth snuck a quick look at the kitchen door to see if Brennan was back with the boys, but she was nowhere to be seen. He could hear her with Parker and Zan talking loudly from the living room, and he could even hear Tri, whom he supposed had woken up from whatever nap he was taking, all of them calling out for Wyatt to join them, laughter in their voices.

He was alone, facing a Great White Shark.

"Uh…You know, I just…" he sighed, placing his fork down on his plate. "I didn't know what to expect," he repeated. "Mostly because this whole family aspect of Bones' life is really still very new to me, you know? I mean, uh, I've known her for months - over a year, if you wanna count our first case - and it's just…It's a big thing, and it requires time for me to get used to it."

Which was true, even if he _had_ been spending a lot of time with her at her apartment, therefore getting acquainted with her personal life more and more each day. It was just a lot to take in and it still sometimes seemed surreal to him. He had to wonder, at times, if she felt the same way about him and Parker, though it can't be as shocking as him discovering about _her_ home life.

Rosalie nodded her head slowly, taking in his words. "Okay, sure," she reluctantly conceded. "I can understand that."

Booth allowed a small smile to steal across his lips. "I just…It's been really fun," he said lamely. "Early Christmas Eve, I mean. I'm glad, you know, I'm glad you and your mom invited us. I, uh, I know Parker's been really upset about missing Christmas with me, and with you guys…So, um, this is good."

Offering her a genuine smile, realizing that he probably hadn't given Rosalie a proper thank you yet considering this was her idea to begin with, he said, "Thank you. You know, you were the one who invited us in the first place."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, her expression softening slightly as she saw the sincerity of his gratitude and his words, attempting nonchalance to tamp down her blush at the unintentional charm Seeley Booth exuded. "Yeah, sure, whatever," she shrugged. "No big deal."

Booth gave her a knowing grin, knowing she was touched by what he'd said. "Uh-huh," he teased, standing up once more to go to the fridge and grab himself a drink.

Rosalie scowled at him, fighting back a smile. "Just because I find you slightly charming on a very rare occasion doesn't mean anything," she informed him stubbornly.

Their little moment was ruined as Wyatt entered the kitchen, having changed from his flour-covered clothes. "Are we leaving for the ice rink?" he asked, looking around eagerly.

Rosalie glared at Wyatt, irritated at him for reasons he couldn't even begin to understand. "You know we won't go until lunch is over," she reminded him. "The place is always so packed with annoying families with annoying little kids during lunch time."

Wyatt raised an eyebrow at her. "You do realize _we're_ an annoying family with annoying little kids, right?" he pointed in the direction of the three little boys, all headed their way with Brennan in the lead.

Rosalie sniffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, saying in a snooty tone in the perfect imitation of her mother when she was being smug about one of her achievements, "We're Brennans. We're _not_ annoying."

Booth snorted slightly at that. "_Right_," he drawled sarcastically, just as they were joined by Brennan and the three boys, entering the kitchen loudly.

"Okay, let's get started, then," Brennan said, clapping her hands together, a yellow legal pad clasped between her arm and her body, as Parker, Zan and Tri ran for the dining booth, sliding in one by one and grabbing for the peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

Rosalie went first, dipping her hand into the cardboard box and pulling out a handful. Once she had a few letters in hand, she turned to leave.

"Rose, where are you going?" Brennan called out, halting her.

Spinning around to face her mother, Rosalie placed her free hand on her hip. She gave Brennan a look that said Brennan should know the oh-so-obvious answer without having to be told. "Mom, I cry when I read these letters," she waved the letters in her hand slightly. "I can't cry in front of people."

"Okay, wait, what?" Wyatt asked incredulously, shaking his head at his sister. "You cry in front of us every year."

Rosalie huffed, annoyed that they weren't getting this. "Well, it's different this year. There's _Booth and Parker_. I can't let them see me crying," she hissed.

Wyatt turned to Brennan. "Okay, if she gets to do this in her room, I do, too," he said quickly, ready to whine about how unfair it was if Brennan disagreed.

Brennan glared at the two of them, placing her hands on each of their backs and steering them towards the lounge booth. "No one is doing this in their rooms," she growled. "We've always done this together, and that's not going to change! Now sit, read and weep!"

Despite being amused over Brennan's interactions with the twins, Booth gave Brennan a worried look. "Are we intruding?" he asked her in a low tone, placing the bottle of grape flavored Snapple he'd grabbed from the fridge next to his plate of lasagna. "I don't want us to intrude. If you're not comfortable with us being here, Parker and I could leave…"

Parker, who had been busily chatting away with Zan and Tri, looked up at his father's words. "Daddy, _no_!" he protested immediately. "I wanna stay here!"

Booth shot Parker a warning glance. "_Parker_…"

Brennan stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Booth's middle. "No one's intruding," she assured him softly, leaning up to brush her lips against his. If there was any real discomfort any of her children had felt towards Booth or Parker being around them, she would've known and she would've asked them to leave. She didn't need to be good at reading people like Booth was to be able to understand her own children. That was exactly the reason she had no trouble dismissing Rosalie's attitude with a simple, "Rose was being Rose. It's fine."

Booth turned his attention back to Rosalie, dubious, and was surprised to find that she'd snatched the bottle of grape Snapple from his table, unscrewed the lid and was sipping away daintily.

Catching his look, she maintained a neutral expression and shrugged, "Grapeade is my flavor. It's _so_ off limits. Pick one of those teas or something - that's mom's."

Brennan, apparently seeing something in Rosalie's behavior that Booth didn't, squeezed him tighter and looked up at him. He was surprised to see her smiling widely. Her chin propped against his chest, she said, "See? She's only that rude to family."

And even as he laughed at her words, shaking his head and leaning down to kiss her, he couldn't help but worry.

Not over Rosalie, because cranky teenage girls, he could figure out. Eventually.

He was worried about Brennan because behind the sparkle of her pretty eyes, he could see a storm brewing, and despite the soft velvet of her lips against his, there was something in her kiss that wasn't quite right.

Booth didn't have enough time to deliberate over this, however, because as quickly as their kiss had begun, it ended. Brennan pulled away from his embrace completely, lightly guiding him to the booth and pushing him to sit, sliding in next to him after grabbing a drink for him from the fridge to replace the one her daughter had stolen.

"Let's do this," she said with a smile for everyone at the table, reaching out to take a letter of her own. "Ooh, this one's from a boy named 'Leonard'."

"I like 'Leo'," Zan nodded approvingly.

"How old is he?"

Booth eyed Brennan as she interacted with the others - joking with Rose and Wyatt, reading the letter in her hand out loud, allowing Tri to crawl under the table and up onto her lap…The smile on her face could've fooled anyone else, but he was learning everything there was to know about her. He was learning _her_.

Everything wasn't perfectly fine.

Frowning, Booth turned to his lasagna and picked up a letter of his own. _This is Early Christmas Eve_, he reminded himself. _This is the Christmas weekend I won't get to spend with Parker or Bones. Don't screw it up_.

He popped a forkful of lasagna into his mouth, chewing the heavenly morsel and grabbing his bottle of Snapple lemon tea. As he took a swig of the drink, his eyes caught Rosalie's.

He lowered his bottle, surprised when her dark blue eyes fixed on him. He furrowed his brow, sensing that Rosalie was trying to silently convey a message to him. He watched as her eyes flickered almost too quickly in the direction of her mother before they darkened, meeting his gaze once more, a warning in them.

The warning was for him to be careful - not because Rosalie thought he would hurt her mother, because hell knew if anyone could actually hurt Brennan.

It was a warning to be careful because Booth wasn't the only one who could sense the storm brewing.

I hoped I did the Santa Claus/Saint Nicholas thing right. I myself share the same beliefs Brennan does, maybe in a not-so-anthropologically-speaking sort of way. I just think that while Brennan wouldn't encourage her kids to believe in an invisible, imaginary deity like Santa (or God), she wouldn't rob them the joy of Christmas or receiving/giving gifts. After all, she herself had to have had good Christmas memories from when her parents and brother were still around, and when she had Rose and Wyatt, I think she'd have been faced with a tough decision to make regarding what to say and what not to say.

This was how I envision Christmas to be like for Brennan and her family, and not just the Santa thing, either. I meant the donations and the good deeds and the volunteer work, mostly because Brennan had gone through a lot. She was a foster child, she was a pregnant teenager, she was a struggling single mother and she was an anthropologist who went from one poverty ridden country to another. She's faced a lot and she understood what it was like to need help from others, what with Wes' help. I'd think she'd want her kids to understand the value of money and appreciate what they have, as well as give to others who are in need.

I don't know, maybe I was wrong. I hope I did the episode/chapter all right and didn't turn it into some sort of Mary Sue-ish disaster.

Also, there have been a few reviews asking how Brennan would've managed to handle college and getting her degrees if she had to take care of twin children when she was younger. I hope I managed to clarify this for you since I had been vague before.

P.S. The Santa/Saint Nicholas story was taken almost word for word from '' website (the piece was written by Carol Myers) and from 'SANTAS(DOT)NET'. I edited a few parts to minimize mentions of religion, since Brennan wouldn't read something that has connotations of religion in it, even if it has something to do with Santa and saints and Christmas.

P.P.S. Who managed to catch where I got some of Brennan's 'Early Christmas Eve/Day' traditions from?

Pictures for this episode are on my profile page if you're interested.

Juliet.


End file.
